23
by felix-felicis33
Summary: Blaine doesn't think he'll ever fall in love, or get the chance to, but that all changes when he meets a man with blue eyes and a beautiful smile at a coffee shop. The world seems a brighter place when Kurt enters his life. The only problem is, he doesn't belong here with Kurt. He belongs ninety-one years in the past, back in the year 1923.
1. Chapter 1

_I felt for sure last night_

_That once we said goodbye_

_No one else will know these lonely dreams_

_No one else will know that part of me_

- 23 - Jimmy Eat World

* * *

New York City never failed to calm him down.

It was something about the steadiness of it, the reliability; it was as predictable and familiar as his own heartbeat. It was the way swarms of countless people passed by him and rows of buildings towered over him, making his problems and worries seem insignificant, their nagging pain softened and lost in the vast city. It was also how ceaseless the city was, how there was always people on the go, always traffic on the roads; New York really didn't ever sleep.

On days when life threatened to overwhelm him and everything he was keeping hidden deep inside him bubbled close to the surface, Blaine would hit the city's streets and just walk and regain himself, let all of his stress and worries melt away in the comforting rush of New York.

But the city alone wasn't always enough. On days like today, when it was just too much, when he was close to breaking point and tipping towards despair, he needed more and he couldn't be alone with his own thoughts. So he asked Wes to join him and together they would walk the city streets.

Wes had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. Although he had a number of friends and acquaintances, Wes was the only one he considered a close friend and was the only one who knew more than the bare minimum about his life. He was the only one who _knew._

"They're not going to let this go, Wes," Blaine sighed, glaring moodily at a newspaper stand across the road. "They're serious this time."

Leaning back against the sun-warmed brick of the building behind him, Wes smiled sympathetically at his friend. "Is there no way you can get out of this? Can you not tell your parents you don't get along with this girl, or something like that?"

Blaine's scowl lessened, the deep frown lines on his face almost smoothing out. When he turned to face Wes he looked tired, the lack of sleep plainly visible as greyish bags under his eyes and drawn lines on his face.

"But I _do_ get along with her, she's a nice girl, I just don't see her that way; I'll never see _any _girl that way and I don't-" He passed a hand over his face, giving his head a small shake. "I don't think I could go through with more lying and pretending; I just couldn't," he confessed, sounding slightly desperate as he looked pleadingly at Wes, willing him to have some magic solution to solve all his problems and make everyone happy.

Wes just stared at him helplessly. "I don't know, Blaine," he apologised. "I wish I could help, but I just don't know."

Blaine waved away his apology. He knew Wes couldn't help him – no one could, this was something he had to deal with on his own – and he hadn't really expected him to respond in any other way, but when he felt this trapped and depressed he had to look to Wes for help, it was a reflex reaction. Wes was the only person who really knew him and as such, was the only person he could truly be himself around. It was exhausting keeping a mask on all the time, so whenever he was with Wes and finally relaxed, he let his fake persona drop, and all of his troubles, worries, and frustrations spilled over and he found himself unable to avoid telling Wes about them. He felt guilty dumping all of his problems on his best friend every time he saw him, but if he didn't talk about it with someone he would crack.

Wes patted his arm. "You're too nice for your own good. If you were able to tell your parents you didn't get along with any girls they urged you to take on dates you could buy yourself some more time."

Blaine let his head fall back against the wall with a resigned sigh. "I could buy all the time in the world and still be unable to sort this. I can't tell them the truth, Wes, but the only way I'll be happy is if I can be myself and love who I want to love." He blinked away the film of tears that turned the newspaper stand and busy street into a blur. "And I don't think that's ever going to happen."

He was repeating himself again, he knew it. He'd been saying the same thing over and over since the day he couldn't handle keeping it all to himself anymore and broke down, admitting to Wes that he was homosexual. He'd been terrified that he was about to lose his best friend, but Wes hadn't been at all disgusted by his confession, not being one to believe all the misconceptions, nasty rumours, and bad publicity homosexuals received. He said he'd known for a while that Blaine was keeping something to himself, something that often made him look plain ill at the parties his parents threw at their house, and had wanted to help him but didn't want to corner him into revealing what it was if he wasn't ready to tell anyone.

Blaine sometimes wondered whether he'd done the right thing by unloading his biggest secret onto Wes. He'd only done it out of sheer desperate need for someone to listen and to receive some support, have someone help him carry the heavy weight he had been bearing for years now, but he knew he'd given Wes an unnecessary worry. Now Wes was stuck feeling helpless and inadequate as he repeated the same words of encouragement, sounding progressively weaker and looking increasingly worried as time went on. Whenever he noticed this, Blaine insisted he was helping, but Wes knew what kind of person he was: an expert at wearing a mask and at locking his true feelings deep inside.

Blinking hard, Blaine pushed himself away from the wall with his forearms and set off down the street, needing the walk to help settle his emotions and clear his head of all the jumbled memories and thoughts that were crowding his mind. He could sense Wes scurrying to catch him up, no doubt surprised by his sudden departure, and sure enough, his friend appeared beside him a moment later just as they paused to wait for the road to clear so they could cross.

They were silent as they walked, each lost deep in their own thoughts as they automatically swerved around the men in neat suits and hats on their way to work. Blaine found himself frowning absently at a group of men standing by the doors of a business firm, all clutching briefcases as they examined the morning's newspaper. All these men here in the city just now – surely one of them was like him, feeling pleasant flutters in the stomach at the sight of a handsome man and daydreaming about broad shoulders, strong arms, and a faint shadow of stubble around a sculptured jaw? He knew homosexuality wasn't as rare as many people seemed to think, so why couldn't he meet someone like him? It didn't even have to be a man he could imagine falling in love with, having someone to talk to who truly understood him would be invaluable. It would give him so much hope his life would improve.

He noticed Wes glancing at him a few times, his mouth opening, probably about to offer him some support or advice, but he would close his mouth and turn away without saying anything every time. Blaine knew that Wes wanted to help him, but was in way over his head and had no idea what else he could possibly do or say to help. Blaine understood this and never expected him to help each time he ranted about his latest difficulties and frustrations; all he'd ever wanted from Wes was someone to simply listen, someone to share his secret with.

"I could just pretend with this girl," Blaine said reluctantly, speaking as they approached a recently opened coffee shop. Wes' brow immediately furrowed in concern. They came to a stop a few feet away from the café's doors. "There are worse women I could pretend for."

"But do you want to spend the rest of your life pretending?" Wes asked him seriously.

Shrugging, Blaine stared dully at a spidering crack running in a diagonal line across a brick in the wall beside him. "What else can I do, Wes?" he asked miserably.

Wes bit his lip, watching him with sad eyes. "I wish I could be of more help. I wish I knew of a way to make the world see there is nothing wrong or sick about who you are and the way you feel." He rubbed at the skin beneath his eye. "But other than doing something drastic like moving and trying to find somewhere you could be yourself, all you can do is stay strong and hope the future is better." He looked apologetic as he said this, as though it was his fault Blaine's life was this way.

Some more guilt washed over Blaine. He sighed and absently traced the long crack in the brick with his finger. "I just wish the world was more accepting and willing to see that not everything is black and white." He ran his finger up and down the length of the split in the brick. "I wish there was somewhere I could be accepted and liked for who I really am, somewhere I don't have to hide behind a mask every day, somewhere I can be truly happy – is it too much to ask for me to be happy?" He raised his eyes to look at Wes with the intention of apologising and suggesting they talk about something else, but before he could do so he was hit by a wave of dizziness so strong he couldn't even see Wes' face or any of the street they were standing on. The ground tilted under his feet and there was a loud ringing in his ears. He had no idea which way was up and which was down, or whether he was still on his feet. Spots of blackness obliterated his blurred vision until he was completed surrounded by a darkness that was pressing in on him from all sides, squeezing the air out of his lungs. The ringing in his ears went up a pitch. His stomach churned. And then his vision slowly came back, soft, blurred shapes of buildings and the street gradually coming back into focus. His ears popped, and then suddenly he was gasping for breath and staring at that crack in the coffee shop's wall. Ears still ringing faintly, he blinked hard and fast to clear the blurriness from his vision, focusing on the crack running through the brick, which now looked a little softer around the edges, or maybe his vision was still slightly off.

Bracing his hand against the wall, he panted, still feeling mildly nauseated, his stomach churning unpleasantly like he was suffering from motion sickness. He breathed through his mouth and waited for the feeling to pass, confusion filling him as his nausea and dizziness faded. What had just happened?

Feeling slightly hurt that Wes wasn't checking that he was ok, Blaine looked away from the café wall to where he knew Wes was standing – and stared. Wes was no longer there. In fact – Blaine spun in a slow circle and scanned the people passing – he was nowhere to be seen. He frowned until a thought struck him – maybe Wes had seen Blaine falling ill and had run off to get help. He nodded to himself; that made sense, though it was a little odd that Wes didn't call out for help and stay with him instead of leaving him alone.

And speaking of odd…

Blaine frowned at the glass-fronted building across the traffic-clogged road – that hadn't been there before… Neither had the strange building next to it with the highly reflective large number over its entrance. In fact…

Blaine spun in another circle, his trembling legs wobbling somewhat. Nearly everything around him looked foreign, from the cars on the road to the clothes worn by the people walking by. He stared at a sleek black car that rumbled past, crouched low on the road and with windows somehow too dark to see through, until a man in a neat suit accidently bumped into him, causing Blaine to stumble backwards until he fetched up against the café's wall. The man barely spared him a glance as he continued to march down the street, holding something to his ear and talking fervently, apparently to himself. Nobody was looking the man oddly.

Starting to panic, Blaine lifted a hand to rub tentatively at his temple, wondering if he'd hit his head and was now hallucinating some kind of strange world where no one judged people who were different, where no one stared at the man conversing with himself as he walked down the street. He had completely blacked out, so it was a possibility.

Letting his head rest back against the wall, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to make the hallucinations pass. When his heart rate settled back to a steady rhythm and the uncontrollable trembling in his limbs disappeared, he opened his eyes again, fully expecting Wes to be standing in front of him and familiar New York to be in the background.

Strange, glass-fronted buildings, foreign cars, and odd fashion met his hopeful eyes.

Fighting down the panic rising inside him, he looked around for something familiar – _anything_ – and tried not to let the desperate noises caught in his throat, which bubbled closer to the surface the more unfamiliar things he saw, escape. What had _happened_ to him?

The faces of passers-by blurred and the sounds of too much traffic, footsteps, and voices became weirdly distorted, slipping between loud and soft like a radio shifting in and out of tune. The street looked familiar, but at the same time, appeared completely foreign.

His hands shook visibly as he tried to make sense of what was going on, his mind ticking rapidly through various possibilities, each as absurd as the last. He hadn't been drinking, he'd never hallucinated before in his life, he was pretty certain he wasn't going mad, but…maybe he had hit his head?

Squeezing his eyes shut again, he willed it to go away, willed this strange, warped version of New York to disappear and for him to return to leaning against a wall with Wes by his side.

Nothing changed when he opened his eyes again. Somehow, he hadn't really expected it to; a small part of his brain, the part more willing to believe in the fantastic and impossible was telling him this wasn't the result of a hard blow to the head, this was _real_.

He had to talk to someone, had to prove to himself this wasn't real. He stepped away from the wall and swallowed thickly, peering anxiously up and down the busy street, searching for someone suitable. His gaze landed on a young man with coiffed chestnut hair who was dressed relatively normally in a waistcoat and bowtie. Blaine hesitated, nerves making his palms sweat and his mouth dry up, and watched the man walk by, before shaking his head and telling himself to just do it before the man disappeared.

He darted out into the crowds after him. "Excuse me, sir!"

Several people glanced at him briefly while the man with the coiffed hair paused and turned to face him, his blue eyes curious and guarded, his smile polite and tight-lipped.

"Can I help you?" he asked cautiously and Blaine had to take a second to stare; he'd never heard a voice like that before, it was soft and sweet, almost musical.

"I- Um…" Blaine began, but he was stumped – what could he ask exactly? _Is this real or a figment of my imagination? Do you really exist or are you being conjured up after I hit my head?_ And there was still that part of him insisting this was real and he couldn't just _ask_ someone those kinds of things. "Um…" He fumbled around awkwardly for words.

The man was still staring at him expectantly, becoming more suspicious the longer Blaine hunted for what to ask. Blaine could see it, like a shield being pulled over the man's eyes hiding any traces of vulnerability or emotion. Blaine spotted the unfamiliar glass building out the corner of his eye. "I- I'm a bit lost," he said, partially speaking the truth. "Could you possibly tell me exactly where we are?"

"Oh," the man said, his wariness lifting. Blaine congratulated himself on his story – New York was an easy city to become lost in and with his current mental state he was sure he easily passed as disorientated and confused.

"We're on the corner of West Houston and Bleecker Street," the man informed him, glancing fleetingly over his shoulder at the street corner behind him. He gave Blaine another small smile. "Where are you trying to get to?"

Blaine had hit another stumbling block. He wasn't trying to go anywhere – other than back to reality or wherever Wes was – and he wasn't actually confirming what was happening here. "I'm not exactly sure."

As the man frowned in confusion, Blaine was bumped again, this time by a harassed-looking woman tapping frantically at something she held in the palm of her hand. Blaine stumbled in an effort to keep his balance, automatically apologising to the woman. She marched on, either not hearing him or ignoring him.

The man in the bowtie was now eyeing him with sudden understanding. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Blaine blinked. "I- no. No, I'm not." He looked around wildly – there was no longer a newspaper stand across the road. "What date is it today?"

"The sixteenth of April," the man replied, his eyebrows drawing closer together as his frown deepened. When Blaine's expression didn't change any, he added, "It's Wednesday."

The same date as it was in the normal world, but the day was different – it had been a Monday back in reality. It didn't make sense. Why was everything here so logical yet illogical at the same time? If this was happening inside his own head then surely it wouldn't be making this much sense, surely any questions he asked would be answered with nonsense or ignored, and that which would normally be considered impossible would be happening, like it did in dreams. Everything here just made too much sense and felt far too real to be false. Conversely, that didn't mean it _was_ logical, and it didn't explain how he had ended up in this strange version of New York, or where Wes had disappeared to.

Without thinking, Blaine asked weakly, "What year is it?"

The man's eyebrows shot up towards his impressively high swept hair and his expression changed from confusion to one that clearly showed he thought Blaine was crazy. "It's twenty-fourteen," he replied cautiously. He was leaning slightly away from Blaine now, most likely on the verge of hurrying away from the dishevelled man in a wild panic who didn't even know what year it was.

Blaine had no idea what to say now. If this man was telling the truth – and he had no reason to believe otherwise – then he was somehow ninety-one years in the future. It sounded insane, impossible, yet it was all too real for it to be a hallucination. _This was real._

He exhaled slowly, trying to calm down and make sense of the avalanche of thoughts, realisations, and emotions hitting him at that moment. This was real, he was somehow in the future, and he had no idea what to do or how to get back to his own time.

His legs trembled violently and he fought to keep them from buckling under the sheer weight of what was happening right now. He took another deep breath and nodded at the man. "Ok. Ok, thank you for your time. I'll let you get on with your day."

He smiled politely at the man and turned to head down the street, not at all sure of where he would go, but knowing he couldn't stand here hoping to return to his own time. He'd only taken a few steps when:

"Wait!"

He heard running footsteps and then the man caught up to him, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. He looked torn, and he hesitated as he searched Blaine's face with eyes of a colour Blaine couldn't put a name to.

"Where- Are you sure you're ok?" he asked Blaine, a hint of concern just discernible beneath the dozens of conflicted emotions evident in his tone of voice. "You seem really confused and you don't look all that well."

Blaine swallowed, his throat making a clicking sound from the dryness. "I'm fine," he answered, his voice a little scratchy. "But thank you for your concern."

The man hesitated again, before nodding and stepping back. He fumbled around for words for a moment before eventually saying, "Have a nice day."

"You too."

Their eyes met briefly and Blaine's heart fluttered, stumbling over its steady rhythm of beats at the connection, leaving him with a racing heart when he turned away from the man once again and set off down the street he no longer knew.

* * *

Glaring mutinously at the back of the girl taking far too long to order a coffee, Kurt replied to a text from his roommate, Rachel. When the text was sent and the girl in front still hadn't ordered he began tapping his foot loudly and pointedly against the floor. The barista shot him an apologetic smile, but the girl didn't hurry up any and continued to query some of the drinks on the menu. Kurt rolled his eyes. He wasn't usually this impatient, but he was stopping for coffee a little later than originally planned. He had thought about going without coffee today so he could cross everything off the day's to-do list before his double-date with Rachel and Finn in the evening, but he needed the caffeine too badly after a late night sketching design ideas that couldn't wait until morning.

He sighed as the barista pointed out which of the cakes and cookies were vegan, his thoughts returning to the reason why he was stuck behind a picky customer at his favourite coffee shop: the confused stranger he had helped on the street outside.

He still hadn't decided whether the man had been drunk, had psychological problems, or was genuine. If asked what he would think if a stranger with wild panic in his eyes stopped him on the street and demanded to know where he was and what year it was, Kurt would reply saying he would think they were crazy straight off the bat. There had been something about the man, though, something in his eyes that made Kurt believe he was genuine and none of his questions had been a joke. He had no substantial guesses for why the man had been asking those questions, but he was almost one hundred percent sure those questions were important to him.

The girl finally moved away from the counter and Kurt stepped forward to order, so distracted by the strange meeting and the undoubtedly odd stranger he forgot to glare at the girl as she passed him.

He nursed his coffee thoughtfully as he walked to the offices for the up-and-coming fashion label he worked for. He couldn't stop thinking about the stranger. He'd had people stop him on the streets to ask a question before, so he had no idea why this particular encounter was sticking in his mind. Sure, the man hadn't been a typical tourist or anything, but he was still just someone he'd never see again who'd asked a few quick questions, so why couldn't he brush the encounter off?

Setting his coffee down on his desk and pulling a stack of sketches towards him, he tried to push the stranger from his mind by throwing himself into his work.

It didn't work.

The honey-gold colour of the bodice of one of the dresses reminded him of the man's eyes, a waistcoat he was adding the final touches to was reminiscent of the one worn by the stranger… He didn't know why he kept remembering their encounter, if it was because he was concerned after seeing how confused and almost scared the man had been, or because of something else – he _had _been very handsome…

Groaning, Kurt dropped his pencil and rested his elbows on his desk, letting his head fall forward into his hands and rubbing at his eyes which were stinging slightly from tiredness and the strain of focusing on tiny, fiddly details for several hours. Pushing himself and not taking a break wasn't working, he needed some time out to organise his thoughts and get his head on straight again.

He leant back in his chair and slid his hands down off his face. Eyeing his long since empty coffee cup, he debated for a moment about going out to get another one, swiftly rejecting the idea; he didn't want to be on _that _street again today.

He stretched his arms above his head, the joints popping faintly, tilted his head from side-to-side to work out the stiffness in the muscles, checked his phone and replied to a text from Rachel concerning outfit choices for that night….

The man could have been drunk, it had been early, but it was still possible, he could have been out late last night. That would explain his disorientation and apparent distress. Being high on some kind of drug may produce similar effects he supposed…

"Stop thinking about that guy," he chastised himself. "You're worried that someone as innocent and beautiful as him is scared and lost in the city, but you helped him, he thanked you and walked away – what more can you do? The guy's probably back home by now, so stop it; you have your own problems to worry about."

Like how Rachel Berry would kill him if he was late home because he didn't get these sketches finished in time.

Reaching for his pencil, he turned back to his designs, thoughts of the dark-haired man who had stopped him on the street now pushed to the back of his mind.

* * *

"Two minutes later and you would have been late."

Kurt sighed and marched past Rachel who was standing with her hands on her hips, already dressed and ready to leave, her glare the first thing that greeted him when he unlocked the door of their apartment. He dumped his satchel on his bed and strode over to his closet to pick out an outfit.

"But I _wasn't_ two minutes later, so I'm not late," he retorted, a little more sharply than he intended, but he was ready for today to be over and really not in the mood to go out tonight. "Besides," he added, tugging a shirt from its hanger, "that was only the time I agreed to be home by, it's not like I'm actually almost late for something."

Frowning at the bite in his voice, Rachel eyed him thoughtfully as he grabbed some more clothes and headed towards the bathroom to change. Kurt closed the bathroom door between them and began getting changed, massaging his temples before unbuttoning his shirt. He could feel a headache starting to take up residence somewhere behind his eyes.

"You work too hard," Rachel informed him through the closed door, her voice softer than before, almost concerned. "You've been coming home late almost every day lately."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden throb in his head – definitely a headache. "I leave the office on time most days," he told her, folding up the shirt he'd taken off and setting it aside on the bathroom counter. "And I can't just stop and come home when inspiration has hit; fashion design isn't a typical nine-to-five job." He pulled on his pants, grabbed his dirty clothes, and padded back through to his bedroom to find a still-frowning Rachel seated on his bed. "You've never worried about my work hours before," he pointed out, checking his hair in the mirror and deciding it was fine the way it was. He wasn't in the mood to go all out on his outfit and hair tonight, in fact, he'd rather spend the evening on the couch in an old t-shirt and pyjama pants.

"You look ill today and I'm starting to worry you're pushing yourself too hard," Rachel said.

Turning to face his friend, Kurt forced a smile. "I have a bit of a headache just now, that's all. I appreciate your concern, Rachel, but I'm fine," he assured her. "Today was a bit of a weird day, that's all."

Rachel's frown smoothed out. "Weird how?"

Panicked golden eyes swan to the forefront of Kurt's mind; he pushed the memory away. "It's nothing really, just work stuff." He checked the time on his phone. "We'd better get going or we _will_ be late."

To his relief, Rachel accepted his answer and nodded, hurrying from the room to fetch her purse, her excitement for the evening returned. Kurt tucked his phone and wallet into the pockets of his pants with a sigh. Though he welcomed the distraction the evening would bring, the last thing he felt like doing was spending several hours in a restaurant with Rachel, Finn, and some guy he didn't even really like all that much. It was with a complete lack of enthusiasm that he hitched a smile on his face and reluctantly followed Rachel out of the apartment.

* * *

**A/N: **Welcome to another klaine story! This one was inspired by an advert for a British department store (yes, really) that was on television here in the UK last year sometime. Like my past stories, it will have plenty of romance with a bit of angst thrown in for fun :)

The mechanics, for want of a better word, behind the time travel will not be a major focus in the story, it will mainly focus on Kurt and Blaine's relationship, but I obviously will explain how Blaine travelled into the future at some point.

The coffee shop featured is based partially on 'Caffe Dante' which was established 1915 in New York City. This is a bit before Blaine's time so I changed the date and the setting of the street it's on to suit the story, but the location and style of the cafe is the same.

The lyrics before the start of the chapter are from the song '23' by Jimmy Eat World. They're not relevant to this chapter but they will be later in the story and the song inspired a good chunk of this story.

This chapter has not been beta read as unfortunately my usual beta is unable to beta-read this story for me, so sorry for any mistakes. This also means I'm looking for a new beta, so if you're interested then let me know :)

Thanks for reading! Hope you like the sound of the story so far :)


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine walked. The walk brought him none of the peace that it used to, instead causing not only his panic to rise high enough to make him jumpy, shaky and unable to think straight, but more worries to pile up inside his head. The city failed to make these worries seem insignificant; if anything, it heightened them, emphasizing how bad and also mind-blowing the situation he was in actually was. Because if the walk taught him one thing, it was that this was definitely real. As unbelievable as it was, he was actually in the future, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

He gave up on searching for evidence of this being a vivid dream or hallucination three hours after he started walking, accepting the truth and marvelling in the New York of the future instead. Rather than hunting for something to prove this wasn't real, he admired the extraordinary architecture, the strange fashions, and wonderful technology. He caught glimpses of the old New York he was familiar with amongst the modern, the fantastic, and the unbelievable, some of it so jaw-droppingly amazing he had to stumble to a stop and stare, such as the sheer dizzying height of some of the buildings. And then there was the plain perplexing: strange, shiny devices nearly everyone hurrying past him held to their ears and spoke into or held in their hands and tapped at with rapidly moving fingers.

He walked until the panic, which had been fuelling him for the last few hours, was no longer enough to keep him going and he began to feel the ache of his feet, the slump of his shoulders, and the tired strain of his muscles. He walked until his steps were dragging and darkness had fallen around him, the city lit up, glowing more brightly than he had ever seen it. It was only then that he came to a stop and really thought about the situation he was in.

Falling back against a wall, he breathed in the cooling city air, and thought.

It was twenty-fourteen and though the city may be somewhat familiar to him, none of the people or places were. He had no family that he knew of in this time, no friends, nobody he could go to for help. He had no home, no shelter to spend the night, and returning to his own time was looking increasingly unlikely with each passing minute. He had little choice but to find a hotel to spend the night in.

It wasn't hard to find a hotel in New York: he only had to walk a few more blocks until he found one that was suitable, one that claimed to have opened a couple of years into the future of Blaine's time. The idea made his head hurt and he stared at the date proudly displayed on the hotel's façade with his forehead scrunched into a frown for a moment before entering through the heavy glass door, a feature obviously added more recently.

He confused the receptionist with some of the money he tried to pay with from the wallet thankfully still in his pocket. She peered at him curiously as he fumbled with notes and coins, trying to count out the correct amount – which seemed a little extreme – without handing over currency that was out of circulation. Blushing and almost dropping his wallet under her scrutinising stare, he took the room key she handed him, before stammering his thanks and hurrying off.

He collapsed gratefully onto the bed once he'd let himself into the room, more exhausted than he could ever remember being, drained to the point where he could no longer do anything beyond lying on his back and staring at the ceiling and the kaleidoscope of city lights playing across it. He didn't even have the energy to switch on the light. He was asleep within minutes.

Some unknown stimulus jolted him awake. He was immediately panicked and confused, the feeling of foreign settling on him the second he blinked his eyes open. Convinced he'd had some weird, unsettling dream, he flailed into an upright position until he was sitting on the edge of the bed with a racing heart, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes. A small yelp escaped him.

Unfamiliar walls, a strange bed, and on the dresser directly in front of him, an odd, black, rectangular-shaped device which reflected his pale face. It was that which reminded him where he was.

The future.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed himself to be back in his own time. He pictured the brick buildings which lined the city streets; the mansion house with its manicured lawns on the city's outskirts where he lived; the music room where he spent most of his time with its wood-panelled walls and grand piano centrepiece – as if by imagining it all hard enough he could transport himself back. He wasn't all that disappointed when he opened his eyes to find himself still in the odd hotel room; he'd never gotten his hopes up for somehow, magically being whisked back to 1923, despite time travel being possible in this year he was in now – for how else could he have ended up here?

Blinking in the bright stream of sunlight that blazed into the room as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud, Blaine clambered to his feet, a little stiff after having slept in his clothes in a rather uncomfortable position. He stretched, listening to his joints pop, and made a decision.

He couldn't spend the day sitting in this room waiting for a possibly elusive something to happen. Someone in this time must have sent him forward in time to this year for a reason and he wouldn't discover who had done this and why by staying shut up in a hotel room.

After quickly washing up in the bathroom – gaping at the ways people of this time functioned – and smoothing out his wrinkled clothes as best as he could, he left the room, scurrying down a flight of stairs to the ground floor where the smell of cooked breakfast was wafting through the marble lobby from a wide doorway to his left. His stomach gave an unsettled squirm at the smell and he passed over the idea of eating, heading to the receptionist's desk where he handed over the room key with the message that he may be back tonight. And then he left the hotel, stepping out into the busy street beyond the doors.

It must be early; still the hectic hours where the businessmen and – as was pleasingly very common now – women hurried to work. There was a slight bite to the air which spoke of approaching autumn and Blaine tucked his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket as he set off down the street, lost in the flow of people.

He had no idea where he was going as he aimlessly followed the crowds. He was growing more certain that he'd ended up in this time for a reason and was half-waiting for something to happen that would explain everything. He let his feet carry him through the streets until, with a start, he looked up to find he was standing outside the coffee shop he'd been outside when he'd somehow managed to travel through time. He blinked at the doors, a stray thought entering his head that maybe this café had something to do with everything and that was why he'd been drawn to it. This was somewhere familiar to him – somewhere from his own New York - and for some reason that seemed important. He nibbled on his bottom lip as he surveyed the front of the coffee shop and then after a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside – and froze.

The interior of the small coffee shop was almost identical to how he remembered it. The current owners obviously wanted to have a vintage style and had kept features from the twenties when the café was first opened. Blaine moved further inside, taking in the small round tables, the original espresso machine on the wall and the display: baked goods and packages of coffee beans.

Noticing a woman behind the counter frowning at him, he gave his head a small shake, as if clearing it of cobwebs, and approached the counter slightly nervously.

"What can I get you?"

Blaine scanned the boards on the wall frantically, not even recognising some of the items listed. He eventually settled on a black coffee and took it to an empty table in the corner. He felt as if everyone was staring at him – and maybe they were, he did stand out a little with his outfit, he hadn't seen anyone else wearing a waistcoat, suit jacket, and fedora hat; it appeared that was considered either outdated or too formal for everyday wear.

As he sipped at his coffee his thoughts drifted to his own time, to home. What had happened after he had left so abruptly? Did Wes and his parents frantically search for him after he had vanished without a trace? Or did travelling into the future effectively erase his past self, so to them it would be as if he never existed? Both scenarios were painful to him and he hated the thought that either of them could be happening.

'Could _have happened_,' he corrected himself. Where he was now all of that would have happened ninety-one years ago. And that was another thing: in this time where he was now everyone he knew and loved would no longer be alive.

This last realisation was so huge and gut-wrenching he spent a good deal of time staring down at his coffee cup, letting the enormity of his situation sink in. He couldn't believe this wasn't all some wild dream.

"I take it you're no longer as lost as you were yesterday?"

Blaine jumped when a voice interrupted his thoughts, a voice that was somehow familiar. He looked up and, with a leap of his heart, found the handsome stranger who had helped him yesterday standing by his table wearing a friendly smile and holding a cup of coffee.

"Oh." Blaine looked around wildly, trying to gather his composure and his suddenly scrambled thoughts. "No, no, today I'm good. I've- I was just rather overwhelmed yesterday."

The man nodded in understanding. "New York can feel that way at times." He hovered a little uncertainly by the table until Blaine's brain finally caught up with the situation.

He stood up and indicated the empty chair across from his own. "Would you like to join me?"

A brief flicker of surprise crossed the man's face before he smiled, looking pleased. "Thank you," he said, setting his coffee down on the table and sitting down.

Taking his seat again, Blaine held his hand out to the man. "Sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier. I'm Blaine Anderson."

The man placed his hand – the skin soft and smooth – in Blaine's. "I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

Blaine smiled warmly at him, trying to ignore the speed with which his pulse raced at the other man's touch. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kurt."

The softest of blushes tinged Kurt's cheeks at these words and Blaine had to avert his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee to distract himself from the beauty of the rosy pink staining Kurt's pale cheeks and from the fluttering feeling in his stomach.

"Likewise," Kurt said in his melodic voice. He cleared his throat. "So, where are you from? I'm guessing you're not local."

Blaine looked up from his coffee, his mind racing to think of a suitable story to explain his behaviour yesterday. "I'm from Connecticut," he invented wildly. "I'm here to pay a visit to an old friend of mine."

Kurt was watching Blaine over the top of his coffee cup. "Did you manage to find your friend?"

Blaine hesitated. "No," he replied slowly. "Business apparently made him move out of state." Anticipating Kurt would question this further, he quickly changed the subject. "I hope I didn't make you late for anything when I stopped you yesterday."

Kurt blinked, seeming confused at the abrupt change of topic, but shrugged it off. "Oh, no," he assured him. "I was on my way to work, but I always stop for coffee here first so you didn't make me late."

"Where do you work?" Blaine asked. He was finding himself becoming more and more intrigued by Kurt the longer he sat with him and he really wanted to learn more about the man: what he did in his free time; what made him laugh; the kind of coffee he was drinking. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way about another person before, even when he'd first met Wes and they'd become fast friends he hadn't felt this desire, this _thirst_, to get to know him. Blaine wasn't sure what to make of it.

"At Dalton Designs, it's a fashion label that has offices a few blocks away," Kurt informed him with a smile. Blaine could hear the pride in his voice. "I'm one of their designers."

Blaine stared at him, wondering if he'd heard right. "You're a _fashion designer?_" he asked in surprise. He hadn't heard another man express an interest in fashion before. The one time Blaine had pointed out the fine detailing on a waistcoat and matching bowtie and commented on how much he wished to have them, his father had made a rather nasty remark about how Blaine better watch what he was saying or people would think he was becoming too feminine.

The surprise in Blaine's voice made Kurt frown. "Yes," he said stiffly. "And I've heard all the jokes and slurs before so you needn't bother with any of those."

"Slurs?" Blaine repeated, feeling as though he was missing something. "No, I've just never met anyone who is a fashion designer before. It can't be an easy profession to get into; you must be very talented."

The frown on Kurt's face smoothed out, but he was still a little stiff when he responded, "If you stay in New York long enough you're bound to meet people in the fashion industry, it is a big city in fashion after all."

The cool tone to his voice made a small spark of something close to panic flicker through Blaine. He rested his elbows on the table. "Kurt, I'm sorry if I offended you. I wasn't implying anything or- or making a mockery of your profession. I really was surprised." He stared beseechingly at Kurt, hoping he believed him. He hated that he may have unwittingly messed up, causing Kurt to dislike him after everything had been going so well.

A brief look of confusion flitted across Kurt's face as he gazed at Blaine, but it disappeared before Blaine could wonder about it. "It's fine," Kurt assured him with a small wave of his hand. "You didn't offend me, don't worry. It was just-" He broke off, shaking his head. "It's fine."

His friendly smile and tone were back. Blaine relaxed.

"What about you?" Kurt asked, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. "What do you do for a living?" he added at Blaine's questioning look.

Blaine drank some more coffee to give himself some thinking time. He decided to stick with the truth as much as he could, revealing as little detail as possible.

"I work alongside my father," he explained. "He runs a small law firm."

Kurt looked at him thoughtfully. "You look a little young to be a lawyer."

"I'm still at school for that, I go to college not far from where I live," he explained, hoping that Kurt wouldn't question his schooling anymore – he didn't know anything about colleges outside of New York City. "I work for my father part-time doing paperwork and the likes."

Kurt smiled. "At least you won't have to go job-hunting when you graduate."

Blaine returned his smile weakly. "Yes, it's useful that way.

Kurt noticed his lack of enthusiasm. "Do you not like working for your dad?"

"No, it's not that," Blaine said quickly, trying to smooth the discomfort from his expression. "I just don't particularly enjoy law, it was never what I wanted to pursue." He clamped his mouth shut and looked around nervously as soon as he realised what he'd said. He'd never admitted this to anyone but Wes before and here he was telling a complete stranger.

Setting his coffee down on the table, Kurt looked at Blaine in sympathy. "Pushy parents, huh? I know people who have been in the same boat as you. But you shouldn't let your parents tell you what to do with your life; they shouldn't force you to abandon your dreams."

"I never told them about my dreams," Blaine said in a small voice. "They asked me to do law and carry on the family business, so I did."

"And now you're unhappy," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine exhaled and tugged at the corner of his bowtie. "It's not that simple."

Kurt watched Blaine for a moment. "I know we've only just met, but let me give you some advice: talk to your parents about this, you're only setting yourself up for a life of regret and unhappiness if you stick with the life your parents want you to live instead of the one you want." He scooped up the satchel sitting by his chair and began rummaging in it. "Do you have the time?" he asked as Blaine absorbed what he'd just said. "I can't find my phone."

Perplexed as to why Kurt would have a phone in his bag, Blaine pulled out his pocket watch. "It's ten minutes to nine."

"You have a pocket watch?" Kurt noted in surprise. "I've never seen someone with one before."

Unsure what to say, Blaine simply smiled at him.

Kurt fastened up his satchel. "Sorry, but I'd better get going or I'll be late for work." He got to his feet, hooking the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. "It was nice talking to you." He seemed reluctant to leave.

Blaine smiled warmly, feeling as though he were deflating. "You, too."

Kurt turned to leave and paused. "Will you be back here tomorrow?"

Blaine hesitated. He wanted to say yes, wanted to know he could return to the café and see Kurt again, but he had no idea if he'd still be here tomorrow; he could be whisked back to his own time as suddenly as he arrived here.

"Maybe," he replied, then seeing Kurt's smile fade, added, "Hopefully."

Kurt nodded at him. "Then I'll hopefully see you tomorrow." With one last smile at Blaine he left the coffee shop, leaving Blaine hoping that he could stay at least until he got to see Kurt again.

* * *

"-and handsome and charming and sweet," Kurt gushed, throwing himself down on the couch. "He looks like one of those dapper young gentlemen in the black and white movies we watched on our last movie marathon."

Rachel watched Kurt from her spot on the armchair with a raised eyebrow. She looked partly amused and partly annoyed, though Kurt couldn't imagine why; she'd been in a good mood when he'd arrived home and while all he'd done since he'd stepped through the front door was gush about Blaine he figured he'd listened to Rachel go on about Finn often enough for him to have a turn.

"I just hope he comes tomorrow and he wasn't letting me down gently." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch and stared at the blank TV screen. "He's a little odd, though," he added musingly.

Out the corner of his eye he spotted Rachel sitting up straighter at this. "How so?" she wondered out loud.

Kurt shrugged. "He seemed reluctant and nervous whenever he talked about himself and he-" He thought about the way Blaine spoke, his manner, the way he dressed and held himself. He shrugged again. "Maybe he's just shy." He smiled as he remembered the adorable blush on Blaine's cheeks when Kurt had approached his table.

Rachel frowned. "What about Adam?"

Kurt's daydreaming about Blaine crashed to a halt at the sound of Rachel's question. "Adam?" he repeated blankly. He blinked at her until his mind pulled itself fully out of the memory of Blaine's smile. "We were never actually dating," he explained. "We only went out once or twice and it wasn't working. I was planning to tell him tonight." He resented Rachel's implication that he was fickle enough to forget about the guy he was seeing when he met someone new. He liked Adam, but there was nothing romantic between them; the couple of times they'd been out together felt like two friends hanging out. Blaine, on the other hand, he could see being different…

"You liked him well enough when I introduced you to him," Rachel sniffed. "Are you really throwing away your chance of something with him for some guy you met at a coffee shop who's probably only here on vacation?"

"He doesn't live far from here," Kurt protested. "Only in Connecticut. And he's here visiting a friend, actually."

"He's probably straight," Rachel pointed out.

Kurt scowled at her, suddenly feeling angry. "Why are you so determined for me not to see where it goes with this guy?"

Rachel sighed. "Because I don't want you to get hurt or lose Adam – a guy who _really_ likes you – for something that might not even happen. You barely know this Blaine guy, how do you know he's not just leading you on?" When Kurt rolled his eyes in exasperation, she added, "And I thought you really liked Adam."

Kurt closed his eyes. "I only told you that because I was lonely. I only went out with Adam because I was lonely and wanted to see if it could work. He's a nice guy, but there's absolutely nothing romantic between us."

Rachel's mouth made an 'o' shape.

Kurt opened his eyes again. "And I've been hurt many times before; I'm used to it."

He got up and left, ignoring Rachel calling his name as he nudged his bedroom door closed behind him.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, I went with Adam - sorry! I just needed a guy to briefly mention Kurt had been out with a couple of times and his was the first name that popped into my head. Not that I hate Adam on the show (he hasn't been developed enough for that), I just don't like him because I want my klaine back :)

Sorry it took a while to get this posted! I've had exams, but thankfully they are over now so I now have a lot of free time for writing :)

Thank you for reading and to everyone who has followed/favourited/reviewed so far!

And thanks to my beta, Free The Curls :)


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine was at the coffee shop the next two mornings despite saying to Kurt he'd only 'maybe' be there. They got to know each other a lot during the thirty minutes Kurt could spend at the café before having to dash off for work. Blaine loved music and had been playing the piano for years. He also played polo, something Kurt never would have guessed about him, but which fit with his prep-school-boy manner. Kurt was also pretty positive that Blaine was gay, a fact he became more certain of the longer he spent with him, and his gaydar was rarely wrong.

The more they spoke the more Kurt noticed how strange Blaine really was: despite saying he loved music, he'd never heard of any of the songs or artists Kurt mentioned; he enjoyed reading, yet all of the books Kurt brought up – all popular bestsellers – were met with a blank stare and quizzical smile.

Something was definitely odd about Blaine; Kurt just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

And then there was the way Blaine dressed. As someone with a great interest in fashion and who worked in the industry, Kurt couldn't help but notice what people were wearing and judging their choice of outfit. He didn't know if Blaine was going for a vintage style or if he just liked to dress old-fashioned and formal all the time, but his style of clothing was far from modern. He had also worn the same suit jacket and fedora hat every day since they'd first met.

Blaine was certainly intriguing, all right.

On their third morning of meeting in the coffee shop, Kurt sat down at their usual table and smiled at Blaine, feeling determined. Last night as he'd lain in bed with sleep remaining evasively out of reach he'd told himself to do what he'd wanted to since seeing Blaine for the second time at this very table in this café – he was going to ask him out for dinner.

His feelings for Blaine were growing each day and he knew he'd regret it if he never asked him out. He and Blaine were definitely on the path to becoming friends, but that wasn't enough for him; he wanted more.

"How was your evening?" Blaine asked politely after they had greeted each other. He frowned at the tired circles beneath Kurt's eyes. "Were you up late working again?"

Kurt smiled guiltily. "An idea came to me; I had to get it down on paper." He took a sip of his coffee. "I'll be fine once I've had some coffee."

"All this lack of sleep can't be healthy for you," Blaine said, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," Kurt assured him. "I'm used to it." He swallowed another mouthful of coffee under Blaine's worried gaze. "So, what are your plans for the weekend? You still hanging around here even though your friend has moved?" He tried not to let how much the answer to this question meant to him show through his expression.

Blaine lowered the hand he was reaching for his coffee with down to rest on the table. "I'll be staying here," he replied. A frown appeared on his face, disappearing again so quickly that Kurt wasn't sure it had really been there. "I don't have any plans, yet, though. I'm not sure what I'll do." He looked up, his expression musing, as though he had never given the weekend any thought yet.

Kurt licked his dry lips. "Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Blaine stared at him, looking surprised to be asked. As Kurt nervously picked at the knee of his pants he wondered at Blaine's surprise – surely a guy like him had been asked out many times before? He was sweet, intelligent and funny, not to mention extremely handsome; Kurt found it hard to believe he'd never had a boyfriend before. Unless he read the signals wrong and Blaine wasn't actually gay? He hadn't confirmed it, after all. Or maybe the surprise was at Kurt asking him out?"

"I would love to," Blaine replied earnestly, causing relief and nervous excitement to flood Kurt's veins.

Kurt beamed at him. "Great! Um…" He looked around wildly. "Give me your phone so we can exchange numbers."

Blaine looked bewildered. "My…phone?" he asked blankly. "I don't have one."

Now it was Kurt's turn to look surprised. "You don't have a phone? I thought everyone these days had one." He gave his head a small shake. "I don't know how you manage." When Blaine's expression turned apologetic, as though he was sorry for not owning a phone, Kurt quickly added, "That's ok that you don't have one, we'll just have to decide now what time we'll meet and you can tell me where you're staying so I can come pick you up."

Blaine relayed the address he was staying at – a hotel not too far away – to Kurt and they agreed that Kurt would pick him up there at seven the following night.

They spent the rest of their time together smiling widely as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind until Kurt had to leave for work; he left the café with the promise of seeing Blaine tomorrow and a feeling of elation at having successfully asked him out.

Kurt felt nervous when he entered the lobby of the hotel Blaine was staying at. His palms were clammy and his heart was racing in a way it never had done on his dates with Adam. Blaine made him feel the kind of excited nervous that made his stomach twist itself into knots, his legs tremble to the point where he worried he was swaying as he walked, and his heart feel like it was beating so hard and fast that it was surely audible to those around him.

The lobby was brightly lit, the lights reflecting off the polished floors so that its surface appeared glassy. The air was filled with the soft scent of fresh flowers and the gentle sounds of classical music playing through speakers somewhere. Kurt tugged self-consciously at his shirt as he crossed the lobby, looking around for Blaine, spotting him almost immediately sitting on a couch over in a corner.

He was dressed similarly to how he had been every time Kurt had seen him – a neat suit jacket over a button-down shirt, polished dress shoes, and a patterned bowtie – and his hair was, as usual, slicked down with far too much product. He didn't see Kurt straight away, he was frowning down at one of the magazines stacked on the low coffee table by the couch, and Kurt took the opportunity to study him as he slowly approached the couches. Sitting in this hotel with the vintage décor and original flooring and wallpaper, Blaine looked straight out of a Cary Grant movie and Kurt half expected a classically beautiful young woman in a cocktail dress to approach him and take his arm. Kurt shook his head slightly to clear the image.

"Hi, Blaine," he greeted when he reached the couches.

Blaine's head shot up and his face lit up in a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good evening, Kurt." His eyes slowly took in the length of him, Kurt fighting the urge to fidget under his gaze which felt loaded with a weight that made him shiver. "You're looking very handsome," he complemented, the usual smoothness of his voice breaking when it caught on the last word.

Kurt tried his hardest not to blush like a teenage. "Th- Thank you. So are you." A short pause followed this during which they both stared at each other. Kurt cleared his throat. "Ready to go?"

Blaine nodded, getting to his feet and joining Kurt at the other side of the coffee table. Kurt swallowed thickly as he watched him straighten his jacket and smile at him.

"Let's go then."

Internally cursing at how lame he sounded, Kurt led the way out of the hotel and out into the street where he quickly caught a cab that had just dropped off an older couple at the hotel. Things became easier during the cab ride to the restaurant, the comfortable atmosphere that usually surrounded them at the coffee shop returning, and Kurt found his nerves dying down as he told Blaine about Rachel's latest attempts at cooking a vegan meal.

"-and then she wanted me to try the dessert she'd made, but I had to pretend I'd had an extremely filling breakfast and couldn't eat anymore to avoid eating something that looked like a dog had thrown it up." Kurt said with a shudder as he climbed out of the cab after Blaine, who was holding the door for him. He turned away to pay and thank the driver, pushing Blaine's wallet away as he did so.

"So, what you're saying is you're starving." Blaine said once the cab had driven away and Kurt had turned back to face him.

Kurt smiled at him. "Exactly." He glanced at the restaurant behind Blaine. "I've been here a few times with people from work and the food is amazing – they can do things with chicken that you wouldn't believe."

The meal went better than Kurt could have hoped for and the slight awkwardness from earlier never returned. It was just like one of their mornings in the coffee shop, but Kurt didn't have to rush off after only half an hour and the setting was more intimate. He could easily see himself falling for Blaine, if he wasn't already.

Desperate for the evening not to end, Kurt dragged the meal out for as long as possible, but eventually they were forced to leave, and it was with great reluctance and a small sigh that Kurt turned to say goodnight to Blaine outside the restaurant.

"Can I take you home?" Blaine asked before Kurt could open his mouth to begin the dreaded goodbye.

He blinked in surprise, his stomach giving a pleasant lurch of delight. "Yeah, sure," he breathed. He gestured down the street behind him. "It's not that far from here, we can walk it."

They walked in silence for a moment, Kurt savouring the feeling of the cool night air on his face and the sight of Blaine walking along next to him. He kept peaking at the other man out the corner of his eye, admiring the way he looked under the streetlights, still unable to quite believe that someone as all around beautiful as Blaine was interested in him.

"I'm still not used to how brightly this city is lit up at night," Blaine said, his head tipped back slightly as he gazed up at the sky, the stars all washed out by the lights.

Kurt glanced upwards briefly. "Yeah, when I moved here from Ohio after high school I missed being able to see the stars – I still do sometimes. I love living in a big city, but sometimes I miss living somewhere less crowded and busy."

Blaine nodded thoughtfully, a small frown line appearing between his eyebrows. He remained silent as they crossed the road and headed down a new street, the lights from some of the buildings spilling out onto the street.

"Do you go back to Ohio often?" Blaine asked. "Your family still live there, don't they?"

Kurt nodded. "I go back as often as I can. I miss my family when I'm here, especially my dad, we're really close."

Blaine bit his lip and nodded, but before Kurt could say anything they reached his building and he came to a stop.

"Well, here we are," he announced with a small smile. Something had changed between them, though he couldn't say what.

Blaine took in the building behind him. "Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

"I-" Kurt broke off, feeling surprised by Blaine's offer. "That would be nice, yes."

Blaine looked around curiously as Kurt led the way to the elevators and they journeyed up to the fourth floor. When they reached Kurt's door, he turned to face Blaine, still trying to think what felt different. His goodnight died in his throat when he saw the look in Blaine's eyes.

Blaine was fidgeting with the bottom of his jacket. "Kurt, I have something to tell you," he began and Kurt felt his heart start to beat faster in worry, not liking the tone of Blaine's voice at all. He should have known this was all too good to be true. "I probably should have told you earlier," Blaine said, avoiding Kurt's eyes "before we went out tonight, but I just-" He inhaled deeply, lifting his eyes to meet Kurt's. "Kurt, I'm not-"

"Kurt, hi!"

Blaine and Kurt jumped as a female voice interrupted them and Rachel appeared, her heels thumping softly on the carpeted floors. She beamed at the pair of them, unaware what she had just interrupted.

"I didn't know you had a date tonight, Kurt," she said, peering keenly at Blaine, her eyes bright with curiosity. Kurt had never been less pleased to see her. He glared at her as she introduced herself to Blaine.

"I told you this morning I was going out with Blaine," he reminded her through gritted teeth.

She ignored him, smiling brightly as she shook Blaine's hand, seemingly oblivious to the painful and strained look in Blaine's eyes.

"It's lovely to meet you, Rachel, but I'd best be leaving," Blaine said politely, his eyes meeting Kurt's briefly over her head.

Kurt felt the sudden urge to grab Rachel and shove her into the apartment so he could be alone with Blaine again. He was sure what Blaine had been about to say was important and he couldn't believe Rachel's timing.

"Blaine-" he began.

Blaine smiled at him, stepping around Rachel. "I had a really nice time tonight, Kurt, thank you."

Kurt glanced desperately at Rachel, silently begging her to leave instead of continuing to stand there. "I- Me, too."

Blaine's eyes flickered briefly to Rachel, who was now studiously rummaging through her purse. "I'll see you again soon, ok?"

Kurt nodded, swallowing down his disappointment.

Blaine raised a hand, hesitated, and then traced it lightly down the length of Kurt's arm, his fingers lingering momentarily by Kurt's hand. "Goodnight," he said softly.

Kurt smiled at him. "Goodnight, Blaine."

Blaine nodded at Rachel, who was peaking up at him through her bangs, before heading back towards the elevator, leaving Kurt tingling where Blaine had touched him and furious at Rachel.

"What did you do that for?" Kurt hissed as Rachel unlocked their apartment door.

She shot him a puzzled look over her shoulder as he followed her inside. "What?" she asked innocently. She tossed her purse down on the couch, her expression becoming apologetic. "Oh, sorry, did I interrupt you guys?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "Yes, you did, but not in the way you're thinking." He flung himself down in the armchair and glared at the floor. "Blaine was about to tell me something important before you butted in."

"Sorry…" Rachel began, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I think it had something to do with how he's a little strange." Kurt spoke over the top of Rachel's apology, not listening to a word she was saying.

Rachel's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts. "What?"

He spared her a brief glance. "What Blaine was going to tell me," he clarified absently.

Shaking her head, Rachel smiled at him in confusion. "No – what do you mean Blaine's a little strange? I didn't think he looked strange at all; he seemed a perfectly sweet guy."

Kurt shook his head at the floor. "You don't understand, you only just met him. It's- It's like he doesn't fit in here, like he's from another century or something."

Rachel let out a small laugh. "What are you talking about?"

Kurt raised his head to look at her, his eyes unfocused, lost in his memories of Blaine. "He's not like anyone I've ever met before: he dresses like he's just stepped off the set of an old movie, he talks like he's on board the Titanic. He's like an old-fashioned gentleman – he even has a pocket watch!" He finally focussed on his roommate, frantically willing her to understand and offer up some reasonable explanation to all of this. "Who carries a pocket watch these days?"

Rachel sat down on the edge of the couch, gazing at him seriously, as if she were soothing a temperamental child. "Kurt, just because he has a pocket watch and acts like a gentleman doesn't mean he's somehow stepped out of the pages of 'Gone With The Wind'. Maybe he inherited the watch from his grandfather; maybe he went to one of those expensive prep schools where they teach you etiquette and to open car doors for people."

Kurt suddenly remembered Blaine mentioning he played polo – that practically screamed prep school.

"Maybe you're right," he told Rachel. He grinned sheepishly. "I'm being ridiculous."

Rachel nodded impressively. "You are." Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she launched into a description of her dinner with some Broadway producers. Kurt nodded along as she spoke, no longer paying attention to anything she was saying. Maybe he was being ridiculous and letting his overactive imagination run away with him, but he couldn't help the nagging doubts planted in the back of his mind insisting that there was more to Blaine than simply a posh, expensive school.

* * *

Blaine got the feeling Kurt was becoming suspicious. He didn't blame him, he knew he didn't fit in to this time all that well. He was terrified of telling him, scared of how Kurt would react when he learned the truth about him; Kurt could easily be scared of him, report him to the police or a mental hospital, or worse, refuse to ever have any contact with him again. Though he may not know it, Kurt was the only thing keeping him sane; he was the only reason Blaine wasn't locked up in his hotel room, scared and panicked, praying that he could somehow be sent back to his own time.

He had almost confessed the truth to Kurt at the end of their date on Saturday night, but when Rachel arrived his confidence was shattered and he was once again too scared to tell him. But he knew this would all have to change, and soon; Kurt couldn't stay in the dark forever.

He and Kurt went out on another date after Kurt finished work on Tuesday night. They went to see a movie – the sounds and colours absolutely fascinated Blaine – and got dinner afterwards. Blaine felt Kurt's gaze on him numerous times throughout the evening, curious and puzzled, and Blaine felt his guilt mounting as the evening went on. But he couldn't just _tell_ him, couldn't bear to see Kurt's face when he learned the truth – would he be scared? Angry?

"I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me," Kurt said as he and Blaine sat on a bench near a pool of lamplight in Central Park. They had left the restaurant almost twenty minutes ago and Kurt had been unusually quiet ever since.

Blaine's heart clenched and his hands began to shake. He opened his mouth to just do it, to tell Kurt the whole story, but cowardice got the better of him.

"There's nothing, Kurt." He let out a short, nervous laugh. "I'm swell."

Kurt stared at him for a moment, not looking at all convinced, and with a hint of disappointed sadness on his face. Blaine's guilt soared to the point where he felt almost sick with it. He hated lying to Kurt, couldn't stand the hurt look on his face, but he couldn't tell him, he couldn't…

Kurt seemed to consider him for a moment, before looking away across the park and saying: "You know, if any other person had stopped me on the street looking wild and panicked as they asked what year it was I would have walked away. I certainly wouldn't have approached them in a coffee shop the next day, but for some reason you were different. I knew you were genuine and someone I could trust, someone I could see being part of my life."

Blaine shifted his weight uncomfortably, his guilt chewing away at his insides. "Kurt…"

Ignoring him, Kurt nibbled on the inside of his bottom lip, still staring at the trees opposite them. "I'm starting to feel differently about you now. Sometimes I'm not so sure you're someone I shouldn't be walking away from."

"Kurt," Blaine said pleadingly, wanting to touch the other man's arm to get him to look at him but scared of Kurt shaking his touch off.

"We've spent the days since we met getting to know each other, but I'm not sure I really know you at all," Kurt continued, still not showing any sign he'd heard Blaine's pleas. Blaine's breath was coming in shallow pants and his pulse thumped in his ears when Kurt finally turned to face him again, his expression sombre with a hint of frustration. "There's something about you that you're not telling me – something big. I'm not saying you should tell me _everything_ – we haven't known each other for very long, after all – but this- this feels like- like-" Kurt closed his eyes, shaking his head as though he was struggling to wrap his mind around the whole thing. "You act like you're from the fifties or something and-"

"Twenties," Blaine corrected quietly.

"I- What?" Kurt stared at him, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly.

Swallowing thickly, Blaine gripped the edge of the bench seat with his hands, the knuckles standing out prominent and white against his tan-coloured skin. He forced himself to look Kurt directly in the eye despite the urge to duck his head and speak to his knees. "I'm from nineteen-twenty-three," he admitted, his voice only wavering slightly in his fear. "I- I somehow travelled into the future last Monday. It had just happened when I stopped you on the street, that's why I asked those questions and why I was acting so peculiar."

He waited anxiously for Kurt to respond, relief at finally having told him the truth battling with rising fear inside of him, leaving him nauseated and shaky. He had no idea what he would do if Kurt took the news badly, all he could do was will everything to work out alright as his palms sweated, his hands shook and his heart raced.

Kurt licked his lips. "You- You travelled ninety-one years into the future?" he asked weakly, looking pale and shocked, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Blaine nodded, his worry not decreasing any despite Kurt's not running off or thinking him insane like he'd feared. "Yes, but I'm not exactly sure how. Someone from this time must have…" He trailed off upon seeing Kurt's stare. "What?" he asked, his worry shooting up another notch. "Time travel _is_ possible now, is- isn't it?"

Concern was slowly replacing the shock in Kurt's expression. "Not unless you're Doctor Who," he said apologetically. When Blaine's forehead scrunched into a frown and his mouth began to shape a question, he shook his head. "Blaine, time travel is still impossible."

Kurt's words sunk in slowly, and it took Blaine a good few seconds before he could begin to comprehend what he'd just been told. He blinked at Kurt, dawning realisation coalescing slowly in his mind.

"But then how…? Does this mean I'll never be able to go home?" Blaine asked, his words sounding confused, as if the idea of this had been incomprehensible until now.

Something flashed across Kurt's face at this, but he ducked his head before Blaine got the chance to see properly. "I don't think so," Kurt said gently, avoiding Blaine's eyes. "Then again, you got here somehow, so maybe…" He trailed off, shrugging.

Blaine said nothing to this, lifting his gaze to stare across the park, seeing nothing. He might not be able to go home to his own time; he might be stuck here in this strange, modern world for good. He would never see his family again, would never spend time with Wes, or play polo with the guys… A desperate '_why me?_' thought flashed through him as the extent of the situation he had gotten himself into began to settle in his mind like falling snow. He was in too much shock to start panicking, was still in denial about it all, a small part of him still determinedly holding on to the hope of returning home. He exhaled shakily and looked back at Kurt to find him watching with apologetic eyes and a small, sympathetic smile.

"I'm really sorry, Blaine," he said softly.

Nodding stiffly, Blaine sent him a tight smile, still reeling too much to respond in any other way.

Kurt hesitated a moment, shooting Blaine a nervous look, before asking, "You're still staying in that hotel, right?"

A little confused by the sudden change in topic, Blaine nodded.

Kurt licked his lips again. "I- I was thinking, seeing as you don't know how long you are going to be here and you don't have anywhere else to stay you could maybe have the spare room in my apartment," he offered tentatively. "If you want," he added when Blaine did nothing but stare blankly at him. "I mean, it must be expensive paying for the hotel, and we're friends, right? Friends help each other out like this."

"We're friends, yes," Blaine agreed slowly. He felt like he needed to lie down; tonight had been too much. First the realisation he may be stuck in the future and now Kurt was asking him to move in with him, it was a wonder he didn't have a headache.

Kurt was watching him with a cautious eagerness. "So, you'll move in?" Straightening his face, he checked himself and added more calmly, "If it makes you uncomfortable then you don't have to; I know we haven't known each other for long."

Blaine didn't have a problem with that at all, his hesitation was purely from shock, disbelief at the fact Kurt was actually offering this, and surprise at how much he wanted to accept.

"Yes," he responded quickly. When Kurt's blue eyes lit up he smiled. "I'll take you up on that, if you don't mind."

Dimples appeared on Kurt's cheeks as he smiled. "I don't mind at all."

* * *

**A/N: **I've been terrible at regular updates lately, I'm sorry. But quite a lot happens in this chapter, so yay!

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, Free The Curls :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Swanky," Blaine said, looking around the large, open living area of Kurt's apartment. He hesitated by the horseshoe of couches around the coffee table, clutching the small bag of his belongings he'd packed at the hotel.

Biting back a laugh at Blaine's choice of words, Kurt shut the front door and followed him inside. "It's nothing special," he countered, looking around, "but it's alright for two young graduates in New York." He watched as Blaine examined Rachel's stacks of sheet music with curiosity. "Did you want the grand tour now or do you just want to go to your room?"

Blaine looked up, meeting Kurt's eyes briefly before his gaze skittered away like a nervous animal's. "I'll have the tour now, please."

Smiling reassuringly, Kurt nodded. Although he now understood Blaine's use of formal language he wondered if he'd ever get used to it or if he'd always find it slightly jarring. With a lot of people these days using slang or communicating through text-speak, especially in bustling cities like New York, it was odd to hear the style of language Blaine used. These days Kurt only heard similar language spoken somewhat stiffly at parties or events he went to with his work, but it was refreshing hearing it whenever he was with Blaine.

"Leave your stuff here for now," he said, indicating the bag Blaine was still clutching. "And I'll show you around."

When Blaine had sat his bag down, Kurt led the way through the apartment, showing Blaine the spotless kitchen where he took in all the appliances with wide eyes; the main and guest bathrooms; the tiny box room Kurt liked to call his work room where he'd crammed his desk, sewing machine, and fabric; his own bedroom, where they both became abruptly awkward and bashful, as though one of them had stripped themselves of their clothes; they skipped over Rachel's room which Kurt knew she would not appreciate being shown off while she wasn't there; and finally reached the room that was now Blaine's.

Kurt clicked on the light, illuminating the modestly-sized room with its large double bed, dresser stuffed with some old clothes of his that he'd been meaning to sort through for months, and window overlooking the neighbouring building. There was a moment of silence as Blaine took in his new room and Kurt held his breath, hoping he actually liked it and wasn't about to be politely disappointed.

"Sorry you haven't got the best view," Kurt said apologetically when he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "It's the reason we use this as a guest room; neither of us really wanted anyone staring straight into our rooms, though as long as you close the curtains at night it isn't a problem."

Blaine took a step further into the room and shook his head. "It's perfect, Kurt, thank you." He stopped surveying the room to look at Kurt. "You didn't have to do this; I really appreciate it."

A gentle heat burned under the skin of Kurt's cheeks. "You're welcome."

Swallowing, he looked away from Blaine. "I'll change the sheets on the bed for you and move my stuff out of the dresser." He walked around Blaine to reach the wooden dresser, tugging open the top drawer and pulling out the clothes he had piled in there. He heard Blaine shuffle his feet behind him.

"I'll go get my bag," he announced.

"Ok." Kurt placed the final sweater on top of the pile beside him and scooped it up, turning to see Blaine heading down the corridor towards the living room. He followed him along the hall, dumping his old clothes in his room and grabbing some fresh sheets from the airing cupboard. As he changed the sheets he thought back to the sudden change in mood when he'd shown Blaine his room, how vulnerable and shy he'd felt. He supposed it was due to Blaine seeing somewhere that showed so much of his personality and what kind of person he was. Though he'd told Blaine a lot of his passions and likes it was different seeing someone's bedroom, the place where all their personal affairs and guilty pleasures were laid bare. And there was something exposing about showing something that was so personal to you and was the place where you were at your most vulnerable – the place where you slept.

The soft padding of feet on wooden floors announced Blaine's return and Kurt pushed his thoughts and feelings firmly aside, straightening the bed covers as Blaine entered the room. Kurt brushed off the words of gratitude that immediately spilled from Blaine's mouth upon seeing the freshly made bed.

"It's ok, Blaine, really," he insisted. "It's not like this room was being used."

Lips pressed together in a thin line, Blaine nodded, flags of rosy pink appearing on his cheeks as he set his bag down gently on the floor. He was so endearingly shy; Kurt had to fight back a smile.

"I'm guessing you probably want to take a shower," Kurt said, taking a step towards the door. "So, I'll leave you to it. I'll be through in the living room if you need anything."

He shot Blaine a quick smile before leaving the room, striding briskly down the hall in the vain hope that walking quickly would stop his brain from attempting to conjure up an image of Blaine in his shower.

It didn't work.

Groaning, he pushed aside Rachel's neat stacks of sheet music on the coffee table and tugged his sketchbook out from underneath. Pencil in hand, he flopped down on the couch and frowned down at the detailing he had sketched the other night. He often did some of his best work late at night when his brain was too tired to overthink things and creativity and ideas simply flowed from his head on to the paper, but everyone had their limits and looking at these sketches he could see when he had begun to get too tired. Shakily drawn lines outlined smudged patterns and the lace trimming he'd drawn for one dress was something that would never work.

He bent to tidy up one of his designs, contently losing himself in the smooth strokes and whispering sounds of pencil on paper.

If he strained his ears a little he could hear the water running in the guest bathroom…

Cursing his sudden incapability to focus, he leant closer to the paper and forced himself to work on the tiny details on a shirt.

A soft squeaking sound of what he recognised as bare feet sliding on the wooden floor pulled Kurt out of the bubble of concentration he'd finally managed to get himself in. He looked up from his sketches to smile at a showered Blaine, and blinked in surprise.

Blaine was standing uncertainly near the hallway leading through to the bedrooms, his hair damp and curly and his skin flushed from the shower, dressed in his outfit from earlier, suit jacket and all. As it was so late Kurt had expected Blaine to be dressed for bed. Surely Blaine wasn't embarrassed about Kurt seeing him in his sleep clothes?

"Aren't you getting ready for bed?" Kurt asked.

For some reason, the question made Blaine blush and duck his head. "I um- I didn't know what time you went to bed, and didn't want to seem rude and go before you."

Kurt frowned in confusion. "You don't have to stay up just because I'm still awake," he said. "And even if you're not going to bed now you can still get changed; it would be more comfortable than wearing that."

Blaine continued to stare at the floor, his cheeks a dark red, his teeth peeking out to nibble at his bottom lip. "I can't exactly get changed unless I'm going straight to bed," he told the floor in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Why not?" Kurt asked, baffled by Blaine's behaviour.

"I-" Blaine's blush deepened and he squirmed his right foot against the floor, his shoulders hunched over slightly and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. "Because I, um-" He withdrew one of his hands and rubbed at the back of his neck. Kurt waited patiently for him to answer, puzzling over what had gotten Blaine so embarrassed.

"I sleep in my underwear," Blaine confessed. He determinedly avoided looking at Kurt.

Momentarily thrown by the confession, which hadn't been what he was expecting at all, Kurt could only stare, and Blaine, jittery and bashful, took the silence as being judgemental.

"I don't _usually_ sleep in my underwear," he explained quickly. "I just have a severe lack of clothes at the moment. Because I don't know when I could end up back in my own time I only bought that which was essential, like some shirts and underwear." He snuck a peak at Kurt from under his lashes; darted his gaze away again. "Plus the stores here are rather overwhelming."

Surprise fading, Kurt sat forward and placed his sketchbook and pencil down on the coffee table. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about, plenty of people sleep in their underwear, and less," he soothed. Getting to his feet, he smiled as Blaine glanced at him again, the blush beginning to fade from his cheeks. "You should have told me you were short of clothes, I can lend you some."

Blaine's head snapped up. "No, you don't have to-"

"But I want to," Kurt cut him off smoothly. "Besides, I have a pile of old clothes I was going to donate to charity – you can borrow some of them until you buy your own."

He strode past Blaine and headed for his bedroom to look through the clothes he'd moved out of the dresser earlier. He searched through the pile he'd dumped on the floor of his closet, grabbed an old pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt with a small hole in the sleeve, carrying them through to Blaine.

"Here," he said, pressing the articles into Blaine's hands. "They'll be a little big on you, but…" He shrugged. "Go put them on."

Blaine's eyes were huge and earnest when they met Kurt's. "Thank you. I'm going to find a way to repay you for all your generosity."

He shuffled off to change and Kurt shook his head fondly at his retreating back. He'd never met someone so sincerely grateful. He knew part of it was Blaine's situation, but the guy had the sort of manners and politeness Kurt had never seen before.

He leant against the back of the couch, waiting for Blaine's return. The thought of seeing Blaine in his clothes making his heart do strange things inside his chest. He heard the tell-tale pad of approaching feet and then Blaine came into view and the air left Kurt's lungs in a soft gasp.

Like he knew they would be, the clothes didn't fit Blaine at all: the pants were too big, the fabric pooling at his feet, and the shirt fit him all wrong, stretched slightly across the chest, but too long in the body. It made Blaine look younger, adorably so, especially with his rumpled, damp curls. But Blaine somehow managed to also look, well…_hot_. Until now, Kurt had never seen him in anything other than a suit jacket and dress pants and now he was wearing a lot less clothes, showing features which were indiscernible beneath button-down shirts and tailored jackets. Kurt let his gaze wander over Blaine's toned arms, the stretch of the t-shirt across his chest, and the way the thin cotton hugged Blaine's small waist.

It was only when Blaine shifted uncomfortably that Kurt stopped staring. He blushed, realising he hadn't exactly been discrete and had been openly gaping at Blaine.

He cleared his throat. "The clothes fit then?" he said lamely, desperately looking anywhere but Blaine's body.

Blaine glanced down at himself, plucking the hem of his t-shirt with his fingers. "Uh, yeah, thank you."

"Do you want something to drink before going to bed or…?" Kurt took half a step towards the kitchen. "I make pretty good hot chocolate."

"I'd like that," Blaine replied quietly with one of his small, shy smiles. He scratched at his wrist, drawing Kurt's gaze irrepressibly downwards. The sight of the soft curve of Blaine's belly made his pulse jump. He turned his back on Blaine and strode into the kitchen.

He could feel Blaine's eyes on him as he made their drinks and it was a struggle for him not to look round when he heard Blaine take a seat at the table. He became hyperaware of every movement he made and the way he was standing as he waited for the milk to heat. It was so typical of him to be attracted to someone he could never have. First there was Finn – even if that crush was fleeting and misguided – then the older guy at college he had pined after until his first boyfriend came along, and now it was Blaine. Blaine who was in a far too delicate situation to be in a relationship. Blaine who didn't even belong in this time and could disappear back into the past at any moment.

Kurt poured the hot chocolate into the mugs and carried them to the table, setting one down in front of Blaine, who flashed him an appreciative smile in response.

There was no way Kurt would be able to stamp down his attraction to Blaine any time soon, not when Blaine had a smile like that.

"This is delicious, Kurt," Blaine complemented, sipping at his drink.

Swallowing a mouthful of the warm, sweet liquid, Kurt smiled absently, his mind now back on the conversation he and Blaine had had at the park earlier. He set his mug down on the table.

"I want to help you find a way to return home," he announced abruptly, startling Blaine from taking another sip from his mug. "You said you wanted to go back if you could and I hate the thought of you losing your family and friends – basically your whole life. I want to help you go back." He ignored the twinge of pain he felt, speaking sincerely and holding Blaine's gaze as Blaine stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips. As much as he wanted to have Blaine in his life, if not romantically then at least as a friend, he didn't want him to remain trapped here away from his loved ones. Blaine had lost dreams and plans and hopes when he'd been catapulted ninety-one years into the future and Kurt would do everything he could to help Blaine get those back.

Blaine's mouth shaped soundless words for a moment until he finally found his voice. "Y- You want to help me find a way back?"

Kurt nodded. "If you want me to."

Blaine lowered his gaze to his mug and slowly set it down on the table. With his eyes hidden and his face smooth, Kurt couldn't tell what he was thinking as he stared down into the depths of his hot chocolate.

"I want to go home, if I can," Blaine said quietly. "If you can help me do that I would be forever grateful." He raised his eyes to meet Kurt's, his appreciation evident in his expression along with something else that disappeared from his eyes too quickly for Kurt to identify. "Besides," Blaine added, sounding more upbeat, "I know nothing about the way the world is now and I'll need to learn about modern ways if I'm going to live here until I can go back."

Nodding again, Kurt smiled, his mood lifting at the reminder he would at least get to spend some time with Blaine. And maybe getting to know Blaine more and forming a close relationship with him would make it hurt more when he left, but he knew the short time he would have Blaine in his life would be worth it.

"Of course I'll help you, in any way I can," Kurt said. He tapped a finger against the side of his mug. "So do you have any leads? Have you been trying to find out how to get home?"

Blaine shook his head, a rather sheepish expression appearing on his face. "Um, no. I was under the impression I'd been summoned to this time for a reason."

"Oh." Kurt remembered how Blaine had thought time travel was possible and realised this made sense. When the idea of time travel was so outlandish and implausible, trying to make sense of it and discover how to reverse it wasn't something one would do when they believed someone had caused it for a reason that would eventually become apparent. If Kurt was in Blaine's shoes he would have done the same.

"Ok, so we don't have anything yet," Kurt continued. He looked thoughtfully across the table at Blaine. "I think the best place to start would be to learn how you got here – how can you go back if you don't know how you arrived?"

Blaine nodded, looking a little daunted by the task ahead of them. Kurt, however, was feeling more optimistic. With a fresh plan mapped out in his head and a list of ideas of how to achieve their goal, he had no reason to believe this was impossible.

"Great!" he beamed, feeling eager to get started with this despite the intended outcome being so bittersweet. "I have tomorrow off work, so we can start then."

Blaine smiled and stifled a yawn, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Catching Kurt's eye, he admitted he hadn't been sleeping well lately as the smallest of sounds had him jerking awake thinking that maybe now he would learn why he was in the future.

They went to bed after that, Blaine saying goodnight with red cheeks and a shy smile before continuing tentatively down the hall to his bedroom, the legs of his pants trailing on the floor. Kurt didn't fall asleep immediately, tossing and turning for the best part of an hour, the knowledge that Blaine was lying in a bed just down the hall keeping sleep at bay. When he did eventually fall asleep he dreamt of shifting shapes and colours, coalescing and moving so quickly he couldn't make out anything beyond a swirl of colour and smudged lines, while Blaine's presence hung around him in a tangible cloud.

He didn't remember the dream at all when he woke up; all that remained with him was the fuzzy, vague sense of Blaine being featured in his unconscious thoughts. He just hoped it hadn't been inappropriate; the last thing he wanted was to start having sexual dreams about his new roommate.

And speaking of roommates…

"Shit," Kurt muttered, flinging the towel he'd been using to dry his face over the rail. He'd meant to call Rachel last night and let her know Blaine was moving in and check she was ok with it, but he'd completely forgotten.

Scurrying out the bathroom he snatched up his phone from beside the bed and stared helplessly down at the screen. It was no use calling her now, she would be arriving home after a night spent with some cast mates soon, and she would only start demanding to know why she hadn't been told sooner. Best to have that conversation face-to-face.

With a groan of dread he set his phone back down and padded through to the kitchen, rubbing absently at his left eye and trying to think of the best way to explain Blaine's situation to Rachel. Lost in thought, he didn't hear Blaine enter the kitchen and he gave a small jump when the other man cleared his throat quietly.

"Oh, morning!" Kurt greeted him, ignoring the way his heart leaped and stomach flipped at the sight of just-out-of-bed Blaine, who was all sleepy eyes, pliant limbs, and rumpled curls.

Noticing Kurt's eyes lingering on his hair, Blaine ran a hand slowly over his messy dark curls. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He let his hand drop from his hair, not realising he'd made a chunk of it stick up at the front.

Sticking his head in the fridge to hide his smile, Kurt began pulling out some fruit for breakfast. "Good, thanks. What about you? Was the bed alright?"

"It was a lot more comfortable than the hotel bed."

"I'm glad to hear it." Kurt set the fruit on the counter. "What do you want for breakfast? I was going to have fruit and granola, but there's toast, eggs, pancakes…"

"Fruit and granola will be perfect, thank you," Blaine assured him.

Kurt nodded, suddenly feeling flustered. "I'll make some coffee as well."

Breakfast with Blaine was nothing like breakfast with Rachel. Kurt's pulse didn't jump when Rachel's hip bumped against his whilst she reached for so more fruit to cut up, Rachel didn't keep catching his eye and giving him a shy smile, and she didn't make Kurt feel so unsettled yet so complete as he chatted with her about mundane things over their food and coffee. He didn't understand how Blaine could keep drawing his gaze or how he could be the new presence he wasn't yet used to being in his home, while at the same time feeling like he had always been missing from his home life and he hadn't known it until know. Breakfast with Rachel also never made him feel this happy or at peace; he wasn't running through his plan for the day in his head or gulping his coffee so he could get back to his designs, instead he felt… not quite lazy, more like he was just going to let the events of the day unfold rather than trying to control them.

All in all, breakfast went well – even with the lingering feeling of 'first date' in the air – until, just as Kurt was about to bring up the topic of Blaine's time travel, the front door slammed.

Kurt and Blaine both froze; Blaine with his coffee mug halfway between the table and his lips.

"Kurt?"

Rachel was home. Rachel was home and she had no idea Blaine was here. Kurt jumped to his feet to explain it all to her before she saw Blaine, but-

Rachel strode into view, beaming all over her face and practically quivering with excitement. "Kurt, you won't believe who Veronica knows! Yo-" Catching sight of Blaine sitting rigid at the table, she cut herself off, her eyes widening marginally and her smile momentarily dissolving into a look of surprise, before she got a knowing gleam in her eye Kurt didn't like one bit.

She plastered a big smile on her face. "Hi, Blaine, I didn't realise you'd be here!"

"Morning, Rachel," Blaine greeted her, still polite in spite of his obvious nerves.

Rachel turned her smile on Kurt. "Kurt, can I talk to you for a second?"

Without waiting for an answer, she seized Kurt's wrist and tugged him over by the front door, out of sight and earshot of Blaine.

"_You slept with Blaine?_" she hissed, looking both strangely delighted and shocked. "I didn't think you were one to jump into bed with a guy so quickly." There was a note of disapproval in her voice.

Kurt's mouth fell open – he should have known Rachel would jump to this conclusion. "What? _No!_" he protested hastily. "No, he just stayed in the guest room last night because I thought he'd prefer it to a hotel room."

Rachel cocked an eyebrow sceptically at him. Kurt gave his head a small shake, knowing he wasn't explaining it properly. "Blaine's going to be in the city for a little longer while he…takes care of some business and he's got nowhere else he can stay but a hotel, so since we've got that spare room sitting doing nothing I offered it to him," he explained. When Rachel stared speechlessly at him, he added, "Because hotels are expensive and the bedding doesn't have the thread count to justify their prices, so I thought I'd give a friend somewhere better and more comfortable to stay."

'And though he won't admit it, Blaine can't afford a hotel for much longer,' Kurt added in his head.

Rachel blinked at him. "So, he's-"

"I know I should have called you last night and checked if it was alright to let him have the room with you first, but I forgot," Kurt blabbered, not noticing Rachel's attempts to speak. "I should have asked you first, I'm sorry."

"Kurt," Rachel said loudly enough to cut off his next slew of justifications for Blaine staying with them, "it's ok. Yes, you should have checked with me before telling him he could stay, but I don't need the room for anything and I'm quite happy for him to stay with us for as long as he's in New York."

Kurt stared at her. "Really? You're really ok with this?"

Rachel nodded. "Of course I am. Blaine seems like a nice guy; I don't mind him staying."

Kurt pulled Rachel into a hug. "Thank you!" He decided then and there that Rachel was the best friend he could have asked for.

"Does this make up for me using the last of your hairspray yesterday?" Rachel wondered.

Laughing, Kurt let go of his friend. "I suppose so." He shot a brief glance over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, to where Blaine was no doubt worrying about what they were saying.

Rachel pushed lightly at his side. "Go tell Blaine to stop worrying I'll kick him out; I'm going to go take a shower."

He re-entered the kitchen to find Blaine staring down into the remaining dregs of his coffee, his hands wrapped around the mug. He was bouncing his right leg in a fast, erratic rhythm and worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. His head jerked up when Kurt approached him, anxious eyes frantically searching Kurt's face for answers to his worries.

Kurt placed a hand on his knee; Blaine's leg ceased bouncing. "Relax," Kurt told him. "Rachel is fine with you staying."

The tension left Blaine, his shoulders slumping slightly as it drained from his muscles.

Kurt patted Blaine's knee before reluctantly removing his hand. "She thinks you're a nice guy," he added in case Blaine had any remaining doubts.

Blaine's gaze shifted to the living room behind Kurt. "Where is she?"

"She's gone to shower," Kurt informed him. He gathered up their dirty breakfast dishes. "You can thank her later," he said, knowing what Blaine was thinking. He set the dishes down in the sink. "I was thinking we could go shopping this morning before we start working on learning more about your time travel, since you said you had next to no clothes."

"That would be much appreciated," Blaine replied. "I'm guessing I should get some modern clothes, try and blend in a bit more."

Kurt shot a brief glance over his shoulder as the sink filled with hot water. Blaine was staring unseeingly ahead, his expression thoughtful. "You don't have to, your outfits aren't that strange here, but you might be more comfortable wearing something more casual for a change."

Blinking, Blaine looked down at his current outfit. He plucked at his t-shirt. "More casual," he repeated wonderingly. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile. "You know, in my time, casual means shirtsleeves and no tie." He got up, snagged the dish towel, and began drying the plates Kurt had washed.

Kurt chuckled as he scrubbed the dishes clean. "You're making yourself sound like an old man," he observed. "'Back in my day…'" he mocked, doing a poor impersonation of an elderly man's voice.

Blaine didn't laugh. A strange expression crossed his face and he lowered his gaze to the bowl he was drying. "I should be an old man; I should be ninety-one years older."

The mug Kurt had been lifting out of the sink slipped out of his hand, sinking back beneath the surface of the soapy water. He heard the dull thud as it hit the bottom of the sink in the silence that followed Blaine's words. He'd never thought of it that way, it had never crossed his mind how things would be for Blaine if he had not travelled into the future. Blaine was twenty-two, and if he was supposed to be ninety-one years older, then-

Kurt blocked his train of thought. He didn't want to think about that. He couldn't be thinking like that, and neither should Blaine.

He hastily changed the subject.

"Is there anything other than clothes you need? I'm guessing you have a toothbrush and things." He cleaned the mug he'd dropped earlier and passed it to Blaine.

Blaine accepted it, the horrible, distant look thankfully lifting from his eyes. "I really need to shave," he said, rubbing at his jaw which was darkened with stubble. "My facial hair grows so quickly."

"Oh." Kurt pulled the plug from the sink, letting the water drain. He found Blaine's facial hair to be very attractive and wouldn't at all mind if Blaine didn't shave. "Right, of course. We can go somewhere you can get a razor and stuff."

He was cornered by Rachel when he went to get dressed. She sat outside the bathroom door while he showered and brushed his teeth, shouting incessant questions about Blaine over the roar of the shower. He ignored most of them, rolling his eyes and yelling at her to mind her own business as she asked things that would require him to lie – he and Blaine hadn't agreed on a cover story yet. She eventually left the room, allowing him to finish getting dressed in peace, and he breathed a sigh of relief – until he went through to the living room to find Rachel interrogating a stammering Blaine.

"Leave him alone, Rachel," he called out, pulling on his coat and smiling at Blaine when he looked up in relief. "Blaine and I are going out," he added as Blaine hurried to his side. "We'll see you later."

Ushering Blaine on ahead of him, he closed the door on whatever Rachel's response was.

* * *

Shopping with Kurt was…different. Blaine supposed he should have expected it, what with Kurt being a fashion designer and all, but he was flabbergasted at how much he got into it. He took Blaine to so many stores he lost count, leading the way through large, bright stores past racks upon racks of clothes to the men's section where he searched through piles of pants and rails of shirts to find ones he thought would suit Blaine. Blaine had very little input on the clothes picked out for him. Not knowing the current fashions nor having an expert eye for what looked good, he was happy to leave all the decisions to Kurt, only speaking up to let Kurt know whenever he really liked something.

After a good few hours of marching between stores and Kurt holding clothes up against his body to judge how the style and fit looked on him, they headed back to the apartment, carrying several bags of clothing apiece.

"You enjoyed that far too much," Blaine decided, looking at Kurt's gleeful, satisfied smile.

The smile widened, causing Kurt's eyes to crinkle at the corners. "I always enjoy shopping, but it's even more fun when someone's letting me dress them, which you basically just did." He reached in his pocket for his keys and unlocked the apartment door.

"I did, didn't I?" Blaine let his feet carry him into the apartment, his mind on this new perspective of their shopping trip. "I was like your doll for the morning."

Kurt dumped his bags on the couch. "A very dapper doll with a fondness for bowties," he amended.

Blaine set his bags down and absently followed Kurt into the kitchen, his mind on something he'd noticed during their shopping trip.

"Do you just want a sandwich for lunch? It's something quick, so we can start looking into-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, not even noticing the other man was speaking.

Falling quiet, Kurt turned away from the fridge to face Blaine, his brows knitting together in a small frown at his tone of voice. "Yeah?"

"While we were out I noticed quite a few men holding hands with other men – and female homosexual couples, too." Blaine spoke staring ahead of him, his eyes unfocused, his mind replaying a memory of two men walking down the street holding hands.

Kurt's frown deepened. "Yes…" he said slowly, sounding confused.

"I-" Blaine focused his eyes upon Kurt. "Nobody was staring at them or shouting abusive threats." His voice was small, his surprise dampened by sadness and longing. "It's- It's normal here," he said, blinking a few times in quick succession in his surprise. "People don't treat you like you've got some horrible, contagious disease. People don't hide their true feelings – their true _selves_ – out of fear." He blinked against the stinging in his eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Kurt's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. He appeared to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally saying gently, "Attitudes have changed; people are more accepting and open-minded these days."

Blaine bit his lip and dropped his gaze to the floor, the tiles becoming a wavering white blur as the tears broke through his weak attempts to hold them back. This was the world he'd dreamed of living in, where nobody shunned you or treated you differently because of who you were or who you loved. This was the kind of attitudes and acceptance he'd wistfully imagined while lying in bed at night after a particularly difficult day of keeping his mask in place, the daydreams that had kept him sane and enabled him to get up each morning and keep going. A stubborn, optimistic part of him had always hoped somewhere like this existed, and now he knew it did, but he'd had to go ninety-one years into the future to find it.

A comforting hand was placed on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek.

"When people talk about time travelling they only ever say how fantastic it would be to see how everything has advanced in the future and what new technology they have, they never think about how devastatingly hard it would be to see something you wished desperately to be real, knowing you could never have it, because in your own time it doesn't exist," Kurt said softly.

The tear clinging to Blaine's jaw fell to the floor. He sniffed quietly. "I never really thought about it that way either, until now," he admitted thickly. He sniffed again. "Back in- Back home nobody knows I'm homosexual with the exception of my friend, Wes. I can't tell my family or anyone else, I'd be exiled if I did – they'd disown me."

Kurt rubbed soothingly at his back. "You know, it's- it's still not completely accepted here, either. Here in New York it is, gay marriage is allowed and it's pretty much considered normal, but it's not like that everywhere. I come from Ohio where it most certainly is not normal to be gay."

Swallowing around the thickness in his throat, Blaine pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dry the tears on his face. "Do your parents know you're gay?" he asked, finally looking back up at Kurt.

"I told my dad when I was sixteen – I'm lucky, he's always been very supportive of me and nothing changed between us." A small smile twitched the corners of Kurt's mouth. "He said he'd known since I was three." The amused spark in his eyes faded. "I never got the chance to tell my mom, she died when I was young."

Blaine froze, his eyes widening. "Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry to hear that."

Kurt gave him a tight smile. "It was a long time ago." He shook his head and squeezed Blaine's shoulder again. "You being here and experiencing this era feels horribly like you're being shown this wonderful treat that's going to be snatched away before you can have it."

Blaine let his gaze wander around the slice of Kurt's apartment he could see. "Even though I haven't been here long and I'm still getting used to everything, I feel like I belong here. I feel more comfortable here than I ever did back home. I- I haven't felt this happy in years," he admitted with a smile. He didn't add that this feeling of happiness, of belonging, of _home_ was due mostly to Kurt. Before he'd become friends with Kurt he'd felt lost, anxious, and had wanted nothing more than to go home. But now, now he wasn't so sure he wanted to leave.

* * *

**A/N: **I am so, so sorry for how it has taken for this chapter to be posted. A lot of stuff has been happening in my life, plus my beta has become busy to the point where she has had to step down from beta reading. As I'm currently preparing for an admissions test for medical school while trying to spend as much time with my best friend before he leaves for university, I can't promise particularly speedy updates, but I can promise that this story will never be abandoned and I will try my hardest not to let as long go between updates as I just did.

I also just want to say I hope you are all doing ok after the terribly tragic news of Cory's passing. I still can't really believe he is gone and my thoughts are with Lea, his family, and his friends and colleagues on Glee. It's the worst news to hit a fandom and if any of you have been badly affected by it I hope you have people to talk to. RIP, Cory, you will be greatly missed.

Thank you so much to everyone still reading this and I'm sorry once again for making you wait so long for an update.


	5. Chapter 5

"It was right about here; I remember that crack in the brick."

Blaine stopped by the stretch of wall and pointed to a deep, weathered crack in one of the red bricks. Kurt came to a stop next to him and began surveying the surrounding area with shrewd eyes. He and Kurt were out looking at the coffee shop outside of which Blaine had travelled into the future. It was the first step in their plan to try and find the answers to all of Blaine's questions. How had he gotten here? Why was he here? How could he return home? Kurt was sure the location of Blaine's time travel would hold some clues and Blaine had a nagging suspicion that the coffee shop behind him which had hardly changed in the last ninety-one years was somehow significant.

As if hearing his thoughts, Kurt asked, "Is there anything around here that's still the same or nearly the same as it was in your time?"

"The coffee shop, actually," Blaine replied, glancing over his shoulder at it as he spoke. "It's almost identical to how it was back then. It had only been open for a week or so."

Kurt looked away from the restaurant down the road he'd been frowning at and rolled his eyes at himself. "Of course – it opened in nineteen-twenty-three." He gave his head a small shake. "Can't believe I forgot that." He squinted at the café's exterior, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun. "Maybe someone inside the coffee shop sent you to the future? Had you been to it before?"

Blaine nodded. "Twice: the day after it opened, and three days before I travelled."

Kurt hadn't looked away from the café and Blaine followed his gaze, frowning at the closest of the large windows on either side of the door through which he could see customers seated at tables and others getting takeaway coffee at the counter.

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary either of those times you visited?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's forehead scrunched slightly as he thought back over his visits to the small café carefully. "No," he replied after a pause. "It was just a typical café."

"Was there anyone inside that stood out to you? Anyone who was there both times you visited?" Kurt pressed, nibbling absently on his bottom lip as he watched two women leave the café.

Blaine shook his head again. "Other than the owner, there was nobody that I noticed. And no one stood out to me; there was nothing unusual at all." He only wished it were that easy, that he suddenly remembered a strange figure in a hooded cloak watching him from the shadows both times he'd entered the café, someone who plotted to send him into the future. But life and its problems were rarely that simple.

Kurt hummed in response and the pair of them stared at the coffee shop's entrance for a long moment, watching the steady trickle of customers coming and going who were unaware of the mystery surrounding the small café.

"We could talk to the owner," Blaine suggested, breaking the contemplative silence. "Since it has been kept in the family, they might know of something that could help." He nodded at the pronouncement displayed proudly below the café's name, declaring the café's long-time family ownership.

Kurt glanced sideways at him, lifting his shoulders in a tiny shrug. "Seems silly not to. And any stories involving time travelling would have been passed down the generations as well."

Blaine hung back as they entered the coffee shop. That insistent voice telling him this café was significant was still present in his head and he was almost certain the owner would tell them something of importance. The more he thought about going home the more reluctant he became towards returning. A lot of people would love to be in his position: seeing the future, discovering how the world worked now and all the changes that had occurred throughout the years. He should want to stay a little longer, learn as much as he could, and explore a bit before returning. But that wasn't what was driving his reluctance to leave; it was that he had nothing really worth returning home for.

The café was emptying of the lunchtime crowds and Blaine and Kurt were able to walk straight up to the counter without queuing. Lost in his own worries, Blaine didn't hear Kurt asking the barista if the owner was available; but he must have done so for when Blaine finally focused on the present Kurt was introducing them to a dark-haired man in his early forties.

"-has been in your family since it opened, am I correct?" Kurt asked.

The owner nodded, his eyes flicking between Kurt and Blaine curiously.

"Since it was opened in the twenties," he confirmed, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

Kurt's smile was strained. "This might seem like an odd thing to ask, but have there been any…" Kurt hesitated for a second, searching for the best word to use. "…unusual events that have taken place here since it opened?" The owner's puzzled and calculating frown lifted into a look of surprise. "That you know of," Kurt added.

Blaine shifted anxiously on the spot. He was acutely aware he was letting Kurt do all the talking for him, but he didn't think he was capable of doing what Kurt was: of asking the right questions, of keeping a level and calm voice. He was also pretty certain anxiety and reluctance had strangled his vocal chords.

The owner squinted contemplatively, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the counter as he thought. "We've had some pretty big-name celebrities come in over the years. Overheard some interesting conversations they've had, but I wouldn't call that unusual." He shook his head. "There's nothing that I can think of."

Blaine let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding and felt Kurt deflate next to him. He had been so _sure_ the coffee shop had something to do with it, and now the owner had proved him wrong. They were back to square one. He felt both disheartened and guiltily relieved about it.

"Nothing?" Kurt pressed, sounding slightly desperate. "Nothing at all?"

The owner shook his head again, his frown returning and suspicion appearing in his eyes. "Nothing," he reiterated. "Why are you asking?"

Blaine's stomach clenched with panic and he fought with the urge to look at Kurt with a stricken expression. They hadn't prepared for this, had no cover story in place for why they would be asking such questions. Before Blaine's panic could escalate any further and appear clearly on his face, Kurt responded.

"We're doing some research on the local area for an assignment for college," he lied smoothly. "We wanted to make ours stand-out by covering an unusual event that few people may have heard of."

All suspicion gone, the owner straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the counter, now looking apologetic. "Sorry, boys, but nothing really exciting has ever happened here. It's just a coffee shop." He smiled and excused himself, moving over to further down the counter to serve a woman examining the display of cakes and cookies.

Kurt turned to Blaine. "Well, that's that," he sighed, looking put-out. "I was expecting to get something to go on from him."

"Me, too," Blaine agreed.

They left the café, Kurt a little dejected with a frown on his face, and Blaine feeling both lightened and more weighed down than before. They stopped by the crack in the wall again. Kurt sighed and rubbed at his eye when he saw it.

"Back to the drawing board, I guess." He glanced briefly over at the café again. "And that was my best idea, as well." He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and gave Blaine a small smile. "Oh well, I guess we're going to have to resort to seeing what Google can tell us."

Blaine blinked, puzzled. "Google?" he repeated slowly, never having heard the word before.

Kurt's smile widened. He reached for Blaine's hand, folding his fingers around Blaine's and tugging him along after him as he set off down the street. "It's time you learned about the wonders of the internet."

Kurt's hand remained in his for almost the entire journey home: skin as soft as he remembered, palm warm against his own, the tips of his fingers a little cooler where they rested on the back of his hand. It wasn't until they'd passed the halfway point of their journey that Blaine felt the blush finally fade from his cheeks and the jittery, electric feeling in his veins dampen down so his pulse was a steady thrumming instead of a wild gallop.

Unable to help himself, he snuck several glances at Kurt and was pleased to see a soft pink tinging the taller man's cheeks and a small smile quirking up the corners of his mouth.

But Blaine forgot all about the hand-holding and Kurt's pleased smile when he saw what the internet was. The feel of Kurt's hand entwined with his own was pushed to the back of his mind when Kurt slid a slim device he called a computer onto the table in front of them and explained what both it and the internet were, in the simplest way he could.

"Incredible," Blaine murmured for what had to be the fourth or fifth time as he watched Kurt click on yet another article on time travel and frown at what appeared on the screen. "I can't believe all this information is stored on this little thing – what did you say it was called again?" Blaine prodded at the corner of the mind-blowing silver rectangle in front of him.

Kurt shot him an amused look. "It's a computer," he reminded him, gently pushing Blaine's hand away as Blaine ran his fingers curiously along the side of the computer's base. "And that's not quite how it works. All this information isn't stored on the computer, it's- it's-" Kurt's gaze searched the ceiling as if the explanation for how it all worked was written up there. "It's hard to explain, but people all over the world have access to this," he waved a hand to indicate the information displayed on the computer, "not just me." He surveyed Blaine thoughtfully for a few seconds. "It's a bit like a radio: everyone can see all of this if they tune into the right frequency."

Understanding shot through Blaine and he blinked at the computer. "Oh, I see." He watched with wide eyes as Kurt expertly navigated his way through more of the bountiful, fascinating internet. "So, you can just look up anything on this and it will tell you everything you need to know? Why do people still go to school if everything you could possibly want to learn and more is all here?"

Kurt moved his hand away from the computer and stopped searching through all the seemingly endless information. "The internet doesn't have the answer to everything; if it did we would have found how you can get home ages ago. And we can't rely on the internet for everything, someone has to make all this information available on it, so if everyone relied on the internet for everything we would reach a futile cycle and nobody would learn anything anymore." He smiled at Blaine's awestruck expression as he watched him return to the computer and switch back to what they'd been looking at previously.

Kurt pushed the computer a little closer to Blaine. "Do you want a turn?" he offered.

Giddy excitement shot through Blaine and he nodded eagerly, sitting forward in his chair and peering intently at the computer, wanting to start but not having a clue where to begin.

"This is what you use to navigate through the internet," Kurt explained, nudging the small black object he had been resting his hand on towards Blaine. He took Blaine's right hand in his own, causing Blaine's skin to tingle softly with hypersensitivity, and placed it on top of the black object. "It's called a mouse."

"A mouse?" Blaine repeated in bewilderment. He squinted down at the object underneath his hand. "It looks nothing like a mouse."

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know where the name came from, but…" He placed his hand on top of Blaine's where it rested on the mouse – Blaine tried not to jump in his seat at the contact. "If you move your hand around you move that little arrow on the screen," he pointed, "and you can click on something – like this," he pressed Blaine's index finger down, "and a new page will load up."

With the warmth of Kurt's hand seeping through the back of his own, and Kurt's gentle breath tickling his cheek, Blaine had a shot at exploring the internet. He could feel the amazement and fascination in his expression as Kurt helped him guide the tiny arrow around the page and select new things, making new information and pictures pop up in front of his eyes. To his great disappointment, when he started to get the hang of how to work the mouse, Kurt removed his hand, leaving the back of Blaine's hands and fingers feeling cold and bare.

After a minute or two he felt Kurt's eyes on him and he looked over at the other man, as though his gaze had a magnetic pull on him. Their eyes met and their gazes held for a long moment, something passing between them, something that made Blaine's heart leap up towards his throat and his fingers to tremble where they rested against the smooth curve of the mouse. He didn't know how long passed by until Kurt looked away – seconds, minutes, hours, maybe – but when he did, Blaine could feel a hot blush burning up his neck and face.

Kurt cleared his throat, his own cheeks stained a deep pink that stood out against the rest of his pale skin. "Rachel will be home soon," he announced, his voice slightly shaky. "Do you want to help me cook dinner?"

Dinner with Rachel was horribly nerve-wracking. She took the opportunity of spending more than a few minutes with Blaine to learn everything she could about him. To Blaine it felt like an interrogation and his hands shook, making it difficult to cut his chicken as Rachel fired question after question at him.

It started off easy and innocent enough, Rachel asking both him and Kurt how their day had been and what they'd been up to. Kurt twisted the truth smoothly, telling her they'd gone for coffee and a walk round the neighbourhood before coming back to make dinner. But then Rachel's questions gradually became more worrisome. Blaine broke out in a nervous sweat and tried to think quickly, inventing believable answers to her questions about the friend he'd travelled to the city to visit, his family, and life in Connecticut. He tried to tell himself that she was simply being friendly and polite, but in his nervous state it seemed like she was trying to catch him out and he tried his best not to slip up.

Kurt told her a few times to leave Blaine in peace to have his dinner, but she ignored him. It was as if she knew something already and was determined to prove a point. Her eyes kept swivelling between Kurt and Blaine, a small frown appearing on her face every now and then. She narrowed her eyes when she caught Blaine shooting Kurt a brief, helpless look as he made up some stuff about living in Connecticut. The thought of what could be running through Rachel's head at that moment had Blaine worried to the point of feeling sick.

When Kurt began clearing away their dirty plates once they'd finished eating, Blaine jumped to his feet and offered to clear the table, wanting to escape Rachel's questions and scrutinising stares. Kurt protested, but Rachel, to Blaine's surprise, interrupted him.

"If Blaine wants to help out, then let him," she told Kurt, sitting back in her chair. "After all, he is living here, he's not just a guest over for dinner."

Kurt frowned. "Rachel-" he began.

"It's fine," Blaine told him, smiling reassuringly to emphasise his point. "I do want to help out. I feel bad staying here and not doing anything to pay you back for your generosity."

"You don't have to-"

"He's only clearing the table, Kurt," Rachel pointed out sharply.

Giving in, Kurt allowed Blaine to take his plate. "Fine."

Stacking the plates, Blaine carried them through to the kitchen and sat them by the sink. Bracing his hands on the countertop, he let out a shaky breath.

He'd have to straighten out his full cover story and stick to it, and maybe use the internet to do some research on Connecticut so if Rachel or anyone else asked more questions he wouldn't have to stutter his way through a response. Otherwise sooner or later someone would realise he wasn't telling the truth and demand to know what was really going on. That was the last thing he wanted.

Reaching to turn on the hot water, he filled the sink, and then washed the dishes before placing them back in the cupboard once they were dry. The mundane task helped calm his frayed nerves and when the last plate was put away he felt composed enough to return to the table with a smile on his face.

"-is a bit strange, maybe he's one of those undercover agents or a drug dealer or something?"

Rachel's voice had Blaine freezing in the entrance to the kitchen. She was clearly talking about him and he had been right, she was suspicious about his behaviour. He hated to eavesdrop and considered it extremely rude, but knowing that Rachel and Kurt were discussing him made it impossible to resist listening in.

"He is _not _a drug dealer!" Kurt hissed in response, his voice lower than Rachel's, only just discernible from where Blaine was standing. "He's nothing like that, at all. You've got it all wrong."

Rachel made a derisive noise. "Oh, come on, Kurt, you were saying yourself only a week ago you thought there was something odd about him, so don't act like I'm making stuff up to cause trouble."

A sharp spike of hurt stabbed through Blaine and he stumbled back a step, throwing out a hand to brace against the wall as all the air rushed from his lungs leaving him with a breathless and empty feeling while he stared wide-eyed in the direction of Rachel's voice. Kurt thought he was abnormal and weird, just as he'd feared. He was from decades in the past, so he didn't blame Kurt for feeling this way, but he had hoped he was different, that he didn't judge him on his differences borne from being almost from another century. He had thought Kurt didn't see him as some sort of alien human being, but he was clearly wrong.

He missed Kurt's response to Rachel, his uneven breathing, faintly ringing ears, and the painful throbbing of his heart making it impossible to hear anything other than the hum of his voice. Swallowing hard, he stepped forward until he was within hearing range of Kurt and Rachel again, dreading to hear what else they thought about him but determined to know all the same.

"Blaine is a really nice guy," Kurt was saying, a hint of his annoyance still present in his tone. "And I really like him, so I would appreciate it if you were more civil towards him like I am around your obnoxious Broadway friends."

"I didn't mean to sound so distrustful, I'm sorry," Rachel apologised, her voice slightly pleading as she willed Kurt to understand. "It's not that I don't like Blaine – I do like him – it's just…"

"It's just what?" Kurt asked shortly.

Blaine shuffled a little closer as the silence drew out for several long seconds, not wanting to miss Rachel's response. He held his breath as he strained his ears for her reply, wishing his heart wasn't pounding so loudly in his ears so he could hear better.

"Just… I don't know…" Rachel trailed off helplessly. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

There was another pause, but this one was different; the tension was palpable even from where Blaine stood.

"What has Blaine got to do with Liam?" Kurt asked, his voice carefully controlled.

Blaine frowned – who was Liam?

"I- Maybe nothing," Rachel replied cautiously. "But, Kurt-"

"No, Rachel," Kurt warned her firmly. There was a soft thud, like someone setting a glass down on the table and Blaine retreated to the kitchen, his mind buzzing with what he's just heard. It didn't sound as though Rachel knew the truth about him or that she had picked up he had been lying earlier, but she was wary of him, and it appeared to have something to do with someone named Liam.

Hitching a well-practiced smile on his face, Blaine headed back through to the dining area where Kurt and Rachel were still seated at the table; Kurt frowning at the glass of water in front of him and Rachel staring across the living area with unfocused eyes. They both came out of their thoughts when Blaine approached the table, smiling at him pleasantly and thanking him for clearing the table. Rachel excused herself shortly afterwards, saying she had a script to read through, and left the table leaving Kurt, Blaine, and a slight note of awkwardness in the air.

Kurt smiled apologetically. "Sorry about Rachel. She's been like that for as long as I've known her: a bit nosey and never able to tell when people are uncomfortable or when to stop talking." At Blaine's nod of understanding, he added, "You've survived the interrogation, though; she won't bombard you with questions like that again."

And just like that the awkwardness was gone. Blaine had decided to file away everything he'd overheard earlier to think about sometime he was less tired and Kurt seemed to have shaken off his annoyance with Rachel. They moved through to the living area, Kurt sketching in the large pad of paper he kept on the coffee table, while Blaine looked through an encyclopaedia, familiarising himself with the modern world and marvelling at how much mankind had advanced in ninety-one years.

Though neither of them spoke, Blaine still felt as though he was sharing his evening with Kurt. The soft sounds of Kurt's pencil moving across paper and the occasional rustle of fabric as Kurt shifted in his seat was background music as Blaine read. He felt extremely content curled up in the armchair with his legs tucked up beside him and the large, hardback book balanced on the armrest. The hours flew by, his eyelids gradually becoming heavier as tiredness settled in.

Stifling a yawn, he looked up from his book and stretched, the pull of his muscles feeling good after hours sitting bent over a book. He looked over at Kurt and was surprised to find him showing no signs of stopping his sketching for the day. His face was set with concentration as his hand moved over the page, expertly wielding a pencil and scratching out all the details of the design he held in his mind. Some of his hair had escaped its sculpted coif and had fallen over his forehead, but lost in his drawings, Kurt hadn't noticed.

Blaine took the opportunity to study the other man, admiring the way Kurt still managed to look stylish in a pair of loose-fitting pants and a t-shirt. The soft light from a nearby lamp threw shadows across his face, accentuating the slight upturn of his nose and the line of his jaw. Blaine found his gaze being drawn to the way the muscles in his hand moved as he drew and he felt a sudden urge to smooth his hand over those muscles, a craving to feel those hands on his skin. He blinked and looked away, pushing aside the images threatening to cloud his mind. Kurt was his friend, a friend who was letting him stay in his home and helping him to return to his own time, he shouldn't be thinking that way about him.

Kurt was his friend, yet he had eavesdropped on one of his private conversations.

A wave of guilt flooded Blaine at the thought and he looked back up at Kurt, this time not admiring him but watching him apprehensively as he debated whether or not to admit to him what he'd done. He bit his lip – honesty was important to him and he hated keeping secrets from his parents and friends back home, he didn't want to do the same here and hide things like this from Kurt.

He cleared his throat quietly. "Um, Kurt?"

Kurt hummed to show he was listening and looked up from his sketch pad, his hold on his pencil loosening.

Blaine rubbed at his forearm. "I- Earlier when I cleared away after dinner I was coming back to the table when I heard-" He hesitated for a second. "I heard you and Rachel talking."

Kurt said nothing at first and Blaine immediately began to panic, anticipating Kurt being angry at him for eavesdropping on private conversations in his home, Kurt never trusting him again, or even demanding he pack his bags and go back to stay in the hotel. Just as he was about to start babbling apologies, Kurt shook his head apologetically, getting to his feet and setting his sketch pad and pencil down on the coffee table.

"I wish you hadn't heard that," he groaned, dropping down onto the couch next to Blaine and rubbing at a spot above his left eyebrow. "I'm sorry."

Confusion slowly replacing his panic, Blaine blinked. "For what? I was the one who so rudely listened in on your private conversation."

Kurt nodded absently, his expression both troubled and mildly frustrated. "True, but you now know what I thought of you when we first met. You know I thought you were strange, yet I was friendly and even flirty to your face."

Blaine felt a pleasant jumping sensation somewhere in his belly at Kurt's mention of being flirty. Ignoring the rapid pounding of his heart, he slid forwards until he was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning towards Kurt as he willed him to understand that he didn't care about Kurt's original impression of him, all that mattered was how he felt now. He'd gotten over his initial hurt to discovering how Kurt felt, and after taking some time to think about it, had realised why Kurt had felt that way; he would have thought the same had their situations been reversed.

"Kurt, it doesn't matter how you felt back them. To be honest, I would have been more surprised if you didn't think I was strange. I had just been transported from another era and had no idea how to dress or behave or how anything worked – I still don't." He smiled at Kurt. "What matters is despite thinking that way you didn't keep well away from me. You stayed around to learn my story and get to know me." Kurt's gaze never wavered from Blaine's and he had to swallow thickly. Kurt's expression was unreadable but his eyes held something which made Blaine's pulse thrum in his ears. "You came up to me in the coffee shop," he finished, his voice coming out slightly strangled as his words squeezed out through the tightening of his throat.

"I did," Kurt whispered. "I saw something in you when you stopped me on the street, I couldn't get you out of my head for the rest of the day."

The tension in the room was so heavy Blaine imagined he could feel it pressing down on him. It made his movements slow, like he was submerged in some viscous fluid. His thoughts, however, flicked through his head at top speed, blurring together so he couldn't make sense of them and struggled to string a coherent thought together. All he could do was stare as Kurt shifted closer until he could feel the heat radiating from Kurt's body and his scent filled his nostrils – herbs from the cooking earlier, some intoxicating mixture of sweetness and spice that must be his cologne, and below all of that, something delicious and masculine he couldn't even begin to describe: something that made him crave closeness.

He sucked in a tiny breath, nowhere near enough oxygen to stop his mind from spinning or to calm his racing heart, but he couldn't breathe, not with Kurt so close he could clearly see all the faint freckles on his nose and cheeks. Kurt's eyes were still locked on his until the space between them closed further and Blaine's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. He felt a hand rest on his knee, sending a tingling spark through his leg, and Kurt's breath ghosted over his parted lips. A barest brush of lips against his, he leant a little further forward, his heart leaping-

A phone rang shrilly, and Kurt and Blaine both jumped back from each other, Kurt snatching his hand back as though he'd been electrocuted. Heart thumping frantically in his chest, Blaine looked around wildly for the source of the noise. A distant shout of "I'll get it!" came from the direction of Rachel's room and the ringing cut off soon afterwards. Blaine looked back to Kurt to find the other man breathing heavily and staring at him with wide eyes.

"We should- We should probably go to bed," Kurt stammered, his voice cracking on some of the words.

Unable to speak, Blaine simply nodded. His legs shook under him as he got to his feet and he tried not to let this unsteadiness show as he followed Kurt through to their bedrooms.

Kurt paused outside his bedroom door and he shot Blaine a nervous glance, his gaze skittering away before Blaine could meet his eyes.

"Goodnight," he said softly, already nudging his door open with his hip.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at him briefly before disappearing into his bedroom. With disappointment crashing inside him and the phantom feeling of Kurt's breath and feather-light touch of mouth on his lips, Blaine headed for bed.

* * *

Kurt tried to shake-off their near-kiss, but it proved to be much harder to do than he thought. The memory of Blaine's face inches from his own, their breaths intermingling in the slim space between them, kept creeping into his mind and taking root there until he was able to force it aside and think of something else. He kept imagining there was something different about his mouth, that he could taste Blaine on his lips, even though he wasn't entirely sure their lips had actually touched. The more the night wore on and the more he replayed and overanalysed the moment, the more he questioned and doubted what had happened and by morning he wasn't sure how close they came to kissing.

With the intent of both distracting himself and showing Blaine more of the modern world, he decided to spend the day showing Blaine around the city. Though he knew Blaine was from New York and not Connecticut like he had originally told him, the city had changed so much in the last ninety-one years he felt it would be a good idea to let him see this. And what better way was there for Blaine to see and learn about the world as it was today than to get out in it?

It was an unseasonably warm autumn's day and the city was bathed in pleasant warm sunshine. Blaine looked unfairly attractive in his t-shirt and maroon cardigan, the outfit somehow making him look at home in the twenty-first century yet still retaining hints of the charm of his own era – or maybe it was only Kurt who saw this. Kurt kept glancing over at Blaine with the intention of seeing his reaction to everything around them, but his gaze kept catching on some small detail – the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheek when he looked down, the tiny freckles sprinkled on his nose – and he would stare, entranced, until he reminded himself again that Blaine needed a friend right now, nothing more.

'And besides,' he added to himself after wrenching his eyes away from the flex of Blaine's arm muscles, 'Blaine will be leaving as soon as you discover how he can get home and you'll be separated by time once more.'

Gloom settled over him in a dark cloud at this thought and he struggled to hitch a smile on his face when he turned to Blaine.

He indicated the road leading down to the right with a nod of his head. "Let's go this way; I want to show you my favourite part of the city."

Blaine's radiant smile made misery settle even heavier in Kurt's stomach, and his gut wrenched as he lead the way towards Central Park. He had heard of smiles that supposedly lit an entire room but had never seen a smile that so accurately fit that description until he met Blaine. It was maybe silly that Blaine's smile was going to be one of the things he would miss the most about him when he left, but he really would miss looking up and seeing that smile spreading across Blaine's face, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes and lighting his irises up in varying shades of gold and hazel.

When they reached the spot in Central Park Kurt wanted to show Blaine, nothing was needed to be said to explain why the spot was special or why there, above the rest of New York City, was Kurt's favourite place. They stood side-by-side on rocky outcrops of land, gazing silently out over the dozens of skyscrapers towering over the park's trees. The seemingly abrupt change from the peace and greenery of parkland to the sharpness and bustle of the city made it feel like they were out in the open countryside, viewing the outskirts of the city from afar. They were taking a step back and viewing New York City from a distance, looking at the big picture instead of focussing on single streets lined with countless buildings.

Eventually, Kurt spoke.

"I come here when I need a break from the daily grinding routine, when I need an escape from work deadlines and the rush of the morning commute. It makes me feel I've left it all for a bit, that I've had a few hours of escape."

They stayed there for a while, gazing out across the stretch of park towards where the city began again. Though they didn't speak, Kurt felt something change between them - a bond strengthening, as if sharing a place so special to him with Blaine had deepened their emotional connection, making their relationship stronger and more precious. When they moved on and walked towards an exit from the park, Kurt felt closer to Blaine than he had felt an hour ago. He felt more at peace, too, and well-rested like he'd just awoken from a long, dreamless sleep, unbroken by alarm clocks or Rachel's singing. Sitting in his spot with Blaine had been the first time in a long time he hadn't been fretting about something or another, whether it be related to work or his personal life. He'd just enjoyed the view, the feeling of the sun on his face and the soft breeze in his hair, and sharing the moment with Blaine. And now, as he walked towards the street, he felt as though he was seeing New York through a different pair of eyes.

It was like he was seeing the city for the first time again; everything appeared awe-inspiring, bright, and full of promise. The atmosphere made his blood buzz in his veins once more, like some euphoric drug. He didn't know whether this was because he was showing Blaine around to, what was to him, a changed city, if it was his visit to his favourite place, or both, but he felt like he was a teenager again, viewing the city through eyes filtered by excitement and big dreams. He remembered why he fell in love with the city: the opportunities, the diversity, the possibilities, and why he had so desperately wanted to move here, why he had chosen it of all places as his escape from Ohio. He was seeing everything that had become lost as a blur in the background of the day-to-day rush of work and commuting and life. It had been years since he'd stopped to smell the roses, or in this case, slow down enough to actually see what was around him - to really see where he lived.

Sunlight gleaming off the countless windows of buildings piercing the blue sky, tiny cafés and cramped restaurants lining the side streets, the thrumming life of Times Square bleeding light and energy into the streets that ran away from it like arteries, the stories and music of Broadway…

It was beautiful. And he had Blaine to thank for this moment, this reminder of who he was and why he was here, something he had lost hold of within months of moving here when he became his job and another faceless city commuter. Now he was Kurt again. Kurt who loved fashion and was still blown away by how he was a designer; who adored musicals and the escape from reality and life's monotony they provided; who loved coffee and drinking a cup with a dash of cinnamon on a cold winter's morning when his breath hung in a cloud in the sharply cold air and the warmth of the cup stung his numb, bare hands; Kurt who was living his dream of being a fashion designer in New York, making his mark in the city full of dreamers and believers.

"Thank you," he told Blaine as they took in the view of Time's Square spread out before them, its many lights glowing brightly under the pink sky of dusk.

Blaine turned away from the lights and billboards to shoot Kurt a look of confusion. "What for?"

"For reminding me why I worked so hard to make it in New York," Kurt replied. "I've been so focused on the here and now I'd forgotten what I've achieved." His gaze wandered over the large billboards advertising various Broadway productions, the electronic signs, and the string of yellow cabs on the road. "I've never taken a step back to really look at where I am in life before today, so thank you."

Blaine looked at him for a long moment, his expression difficult to read, the look in his eyes tickling at a slowly dawning realisation in the back of Kurt's mind and drying up his throat. "Thank you for showing me around the city," Blaine said eventually. "It's changed so much from the place I'm used to; it's almost like being in another city."

"Changed for the better or for worse?" Kurt wondered.

Forehead scrunching in thought, Blaine ran his eyes over the surrounding area again. "In some way it's definitely better," he replied slowly. "But in other ways, it maybe isn't…" He shrugged and turned back to Kurt with a small smile. "I don't know, I haven't really been here long enough to judge; ask me again in a week or so."

'If you're still here,' Kurt added in his head. His good mood deflated slightly and he glumly watched a young couple take a picture of themselves with Time's Square in the background – arms around each other, wide smiles on their faces. He stamped his rising sadness with its bite of jealousy down. He touched Blaine's elbow. "Are you ready to head back? Rachel's out tonight so I thought we'd order in Chinese food for dinner."

"You can do that?" Blaine looked baffled.

Kurt couldn't help but smile at the expression on the other man's face. "This will be another new experience of twenty-first century living for you."

* * *

**A/N: **The tension is building... ;)

Thank you to everyone reading and to those of you leaving reviews - it's always nice to hear what you guys think :)

And thank you to my beta, BleedingHeartsBeFree :)


	6. Chapter 6

"Who's Liam?"

Kurt froze, the stack of sketches he was holding almost falling out his slack grasp onto the floor. Reflexively snatching at the papers before they fell, he stared at Blaine's curious expression, shock and a sudden gush of all the old feelings crashing around inside him. Aside from the brief mention a couple of days ago, he hadn't heard the name of his ex-boyfriend spoken in almost a year. It was the name of someone he didn't like to think about and whom he and Rachel had a strict rule of never mentioning. Since the day he had determinedly shoved everything to do with Liam into a locked box inside of him, he rarely remembered he even existed. Only when certain songs came on the radio or when he heard someone say Liam's well-used phrase of 'let's roll' did the box crack open and all the suppressed memories and feelings threaten to spill out. And now he had been mentioned twice within a few days; Kurt found it all very unsettling.

Setting the pile of sketches down neatly on top of the rest where they lay on the coffee table, Kurt nervously licked his dry lips. He wanted to tell Blaine about Liam, to share his past with him, to help him understand why he was the person he was. But at the same time he didn't want to tell him, didn't want him to know how something that had happened almost a year ago was still affecting him today; he didn't want him to see the weaker side of him, the chinks in his armour.

Resting his elbows on his knees he rubbed at his closed eyes. "Liam is my ex-boyfriend; we broke up almost a year ago."

There was a long pause. Kurt didn't dare lift his head to look at Blaine; for some reason, he didn't want to see his expression.

"Oh," Blaine said eventually, his voice small. "I- I'm sorry for bringing this up. I heard the name mentioned the other day and- I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about this."

Kurt raised his head. Blaine looked sincerely apologetic, like he really regretted mentioning Liam. Kurt gave his head a small shake, waving away his apology. "No, it's fine. I- I think I want to tell you about it, it's just been a while since I've spoken about him with anyone."

Blaine's brow furrowed with concern. "Kurt, you don't have to-"

"But I want to," Kurt insisted. He sat up straight, inhaling deeply and nodding his head. He could do this, he could talk about it, it had been months now, he had moved on from it all.

Twisting his fingers in his lap, he tried to decide where to begin.

"I grew up in a town in Ohio where being gay was- well… Most people there had similar attitudes towards homosexuals as what you're used to." He gave Blaine a weak smile. "I was tormented throughout high school for being open about who I was and it was made all the more difficult by being the only person out at my school." At Blaine's look of confusion, he added, "I was the only person who was open about being gay." He began rubbing the palms of his hands over the rough fabric of his jeans, releasing some of his nervous energy through the repetitive motion. "When I moved out here for college I had zero experience in dating and was extremely naïve, all too eager and quick to jump into a relationship with the first guy who showed an interest in me."

Kurt swallowed hard and stopped the compulsive movements of his hands, digging his fingernails into the knees of his jeans. He was finally lifting the lid on the tightly sealed box containing memories of Liam. His pulse pounded in his ears and Blaine's attentive, concerned face blurred out of focus as he sifted through the contents of the box. There was no backing out now.

"Liam was on my course and after we worked together during a design workshop we stuck together during our classes. Within a fortnight of semester starting, he asked me out."

An image filled Kurt's head: Liam smiling across a café table at him as they ate lunch. His face was ever so slightly out of focus and the background was nondescript smudges of soft colours, the whole scene faded around the edges like an old photograph that had been viewed too often. It was a memory that Kurt had once held fondly but was now tainted and spoiled by more recent events and a change in the way his heart beat.

He traced a line up his thigh with his finger. "I fell for him hard and fast. During my last few years of high school I'd felt lonely and extremely jealous of my friends going on dates and having all these experiences that I never got the chance to have. Looking back, I think I was more in love with being in a relationship than I was with Liam himself." He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, the nonchalant movement failing to mask his true discomfort, the tension in his shoulders and the stiffness in his voice betraying him. "I threw myself into my relationship with Liam. After we broke up I blamed it on me being too clingy, but it wasn't that.

"Not long after we graduated from college I asked him to move in with me, he agreed, we were happy. It was like a dream, and I was imagining spending the rest of my life with him, though I never mentioned that to him; we were still young and I was a bit of a hopeless romantic. We were happy, our relationship was solid, I had no warning for what happened less than a week after he moved in with me: I came home to find his stuff was all gone and he'd moved out. I thought he'd just decided he wasn't ready for us to live together and we'd hit a bump in the road, but I never heard from him again. My texts and calls got no response, and then his number was changed a few days later. I went to his old apartment but it was still empty and the landlord said someone else would be moving into it soon, I spoke to his friends but they hadn't heard from him. I was in despair. I was confused and hurt and betrayed, but a part of me still clung to the hope he'd come back and we could fix whatever had gone wrong."

Blaine had gone very still as he listened to Kurt speak, his eyes fixed almost unblinkingly on Kurt's face. There was so much concern and pity on his face that Kurt couldn't look at him for very long, instead fixing his gaze on a small dent in the wooden floor where Rachel had dropped her end of the coffee table when they'd been moving in.

"I got the story out of one of Liam's friends a week later. Liam had moved back to his hometown of Indianapolis and cut himself off from nearly everyone in New York. He'd been feeling overwhelmed by everything from our relationship to trying to find the right job in the fashion industry and had needed out." Kurt's voice became bitter. "Apparently he thought the best way to do that was to leave suddenly without offering anyone an explanation and to never contact anyone from his New York life again."

A moment of stunned silence followed his words. Without looking up, Kurt knew Blaine's eyes were widened in disbelief.

"He- You never saw him again?" Blaine stammered. He sounded almost angry. "He left while you were out, snuck out behind your back, and never spoke to you again? Never explained himself?"

Knowing Blaine's eyes were still fixed on him, Kurt nodded. Blaine made a small, appalled noise, and Kurt added, "Apparently our four year relationship meant nothing to him. He didn't care enough about me to be worried about how I might have been affected by what he'd done."

"He was a coward," Blaine said sharply, his voice thick with detest.

Kurt nodded his agreement, slumped back in his seat, and finally looked at Blaine. The other man sat stiffly on the couch, his eyes bright with his disgust. "It took me months to realise that; to stop blaming myself."

Blaine made a small movement, a slight twitching of his hands and upper body as though he made to get up but changed his mind. His expression shifted. "Is this why Rachel doesn't really like me?"

"It's not that she doesn't like you," Kurt disagreed, "she's just become overly cautious and suspicious of any guy she doesn't know whom I've become friends with since Liam. Not that there's been many guys," he added as an afterthought.

Blaine nodded and Kurt fidgeted in the silence that followed.

"Rachel worries about me a lot," Kurt blurted out, needing to break the silence and make sure Blaine understood she wasn't targeting him and he shouldn't feel uncomfortable living with her. "I haven't really been the same since Liam left and that concerns her. Over the last couple of months she's tried to set me up with guys she knows, tried to break me out of the cycle I've gotten into of working and sleeping, but I haven't been interested in any of those guys, and-" He met Blaine's eyes. "You're the first guy who I haven't met through Rachel who I've become friends with since Liam and it worries her that she doesn't know you. She's just trying to protect me."

Blaine stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "So you're saying she doesn't trust me?"

"I-" Kurt stopped the automatic reassurance that this wasn't the case which immediately rose to his lips. He didn't want to feebly deny what he knew to be the truth, not to Blaine, not when it was obvious that, at this point in time, Rachel did not fully trust Blaine. There was nothing to be gained from denying the obvious.

"What matters is that _I _trust you," he said softly.

Blaine's mouth opened and then closed again. Kurt felt himself becoming hot around his neck and he leaned forward to straighten the already neat pile of sketches, needing to do something other than blush under Blaine's heavy gaze. He was acutely aware of the set of his mouth and the position of his hands as he sat back in his chair, no longer having a valid reason to tidy his sketches. He couldn't remember ever feeling so awkward or self-conscious.

Blaine was wearing a small smile when he finally looked up, the lines of his face soft.

"That's what matters to me," Blaine agreed softly.

The flush covering Kurt's cheeks deepened, and he internally cursed his burning face – why did he still blush like a teenager around this man?

Kurt had no idea how to respond to this and so another period of silence followed. It felt like the air in the room was humming with some kind of electricity and one word or movement from either of them could be enough to set off a spark. Kurt found himself holding his breath, waiting for the flicker of that spark. He was hyperaware of each tiny movement Blaine made, of every shift of his expression. He studied Blaine's face over and over again, as if he were a page in a book he'd been told to memorise. He could see Blaine was waiting, too, hesitating on the verge of taking the plunge, of seeing if the spark would ignite.

Keys jingled in the hallway and one slid into the lock. Blaine dragged his eyes away from Kurt to look round at the front door just as it swung open, snapping the thickly hanging tension and fizzling out the electricity.

With his heart sinking in disappointment, Kurt watched Rachel stride into the apartment swinging her purse, clearly in a good mood.

"Afternoon!" she sang, beaming at them and making a beeline for her room. As she passed the kitchen she began singing one of the songs from her current production at the top of her lungs. Kurt winced a little as her voice pierced the air; she could not have picked a worse moment to waltz in and start singing.

Blaine stared after her as her voice, mercifully, faded. "Does she ever pipe down?"

His question was most likely rhetorical, but Kurt answered anyway. "Rarely," he said grimly. When Blaine's gaze returned to his face, he shifted nervously in his chair. "Do you want to do a bit more research?" he asked, valiantly trying to prevent the awkwardness he could sense from settling in. "I was thinking about looking into experimental time travel and seeing if-"

"I want to go to my house."

Cutting himself off mid-speech, Kurt stared at Blaine, his brain slowly trying and failing to make sense of what he'd just heard.

"You- What?"

Blaine swallowed, uncertainty creeping into his expression. "I want to visit my old house," he repeated hesitantly. "Where I lived back in my own time."

Kurt's mouth fell open, his mouth shaping several responses, though no sound escaped his throat. He hadn't expected this. Sure, he had briefly thought Blaine may be curious about the futures of himself or his family, but learning or fiddling around with your own future was something that had been drilled into him as fundamentally _wrong_ from all the time travel fiction he'd come across. Whenever he'd wondered if this was something Blaine would wish to do he'd debated whether it was something _he'd_ want if their positions were reversed – if he could learn what his future would be like, what he'd achieve in his life, would he want to know? The idea scared him – what if he didn't achieve any of his dreams or died young? He wouldn't want to spend the rest of his life haunted by what was to come. But on the other hand, he _would_ possibly have the knowledge to change things, if he wanted. He always ended up pushing the idea from his mind at this point, telling himself Blaine would never want to learn of his future.

And now here they were.

"You- You want to go to your house?" Kurt said, needing the confirmation to make sure Blaine was actually being serious.

He was. There wasn't a twitch of mouth or mischievous sparkle in his eyes to betray him as joking. He wanted to do this, wanted to enter the territory Kurt had desperately been turning a blind eye to in the hopes that Blaine felt the same way and didn't want to know what had become of his life in the ninety-one years he'd skipped forward.

Blaine seemed to know what Kurt was thinking. "I know I probably shouldn't and I know I'm entering dangerous waters here, but I almost feel like I _have_ to go. For the past few days I've been filled with this burning curiosity to know what my house is like today, to see some part of my old life." He shook his head, his eyes apologetic. "I've tried to ignore it, but I just can't." His voice lifted hopefully. "Maybe there's something there that will explain why I'm here or how I can get back."

He was fishing, they both knew it.

Blaine's shoulders slumped. "I doubt that," he admitted in a low, dispirited voice. "But I still wish to go."

Kurt was torn. He hated seeing Blaine so down and didn't want to refuse him something he wanted so badly, but he was worried, scared of entering this side of time travel. And what if, after seeing his house, Blaine was tempted to learn more? What if this didn't quench his curiosity of the ninety-one years he'd missed, but fuelled it?

Kurt bit his lip. "I don't know, Blaine…"

Blaine's slightly desperate eyes searched Kurt's face for a moment, and then he nodded slowly, looking disheartened. "I know why you're worried about this, but I just want to see what became of the house, that's all." He paused. "But if it's something you really think I shouldn't do, then I won't. We can just forget about this."

Rubbing at the skin beneath his left eye Kurt bit back a sigh of frustration. A battle raged inside him, his fear at looking too much into Blaine's future fighting with his desire to please Blaine and the voice in his head assuring him they were only looking at a house, it wouldn't affect anything.

"Ok," he heard himself say as if from a distance.

Blaine's body lifted from its slumped position. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.

Kurt wasn't, not completely. He was still scared and not totally convinced this wouldn't result in Blaine knowing too much. "I'm sure," he said.

* * *

After a quick search on the internet they discovered that Blaine's house was no longer the residence of a single family. Some forty years ago it had been converted into a guest house, a small hotel of sorts. In spite of this, Blaine still wanted to visit the house, even though it probably wouldn't look much like the place he called home.

They travelled there the following day, Kurt printing out a map from the internet and using it to navigate their way out of the city and into the suburbs where the traffic lessened and the greenery increased. Like the city itself, the area was a disorientating mix of familiar and foreign to Blaine. New buildings had popped up over the years and others had replaced the ones he remembered, but when they turned down the road he lived on he found it surprisingly similar to how he knew it from his time.

The large, manor houses were all still there, their expansive yards still neatly manicured and bursting with autumn colours. From what he could see, not many of them were used as single family homes anymore, but had instead been turned into apartment complexes or exclusive guest houses. They came to a stop outside one of these guest houses and Blaine's heart pounded as he looked up the long drive of his home.

From the outside it hadn't changed all that much: the driveway had been altered to accommodate parking for more cars, signs had been put up to advertise it as a luxurious guest house, more flowerbeds and hedges had been added, and it looked like the windows and door had been changed. But other than that it was still the same.

The air seemed to dry up in Blaine's lungs, he could only stare speechlessly at the house.

"Has it changed much?" Kurt asked tentatively some time later.

Blaine forced his thoughts away from imagining what his bedroom looked like now, what stood in place of his beloved piano, whether books still rested on shelves in the library. It wouldn't do him any good to think about such things and all these thoughts were irrelevant anyway – it wasn't his home anymore.

He looked away from an upstairs window, focusing his gaze upon the garages instead, somewhere that didn't make him feel as though he was looking into the soul of the house.

"From the outside: not much," he replied. They'd changed the garage doors, as well, he noticed. "I doubt the same can be said for the inside."

Feeling Kurt's eyes on him, he looked round and met the other man's thoughtful gaze.

"We could spend a night here, if you want?" Kurt offered. "Then you could see inside, as well."

"No!" Blaine blurted immediately. When Kurt blinked in surprise, he added, "Sorry, I just don't think I could- I don't think I'd want to see-" He couldn't put into words how he didn't think he could handle actually being inside the house, walking the corridors like a ghost and remembering what had once been.

Kurt seemed to understand. "Ok," he said. "It's ok. It was just a suggestion."

They stared at the house in silence for another long moment. Blaine wasn't sure what he was feeling as he watched the shrubbery by the front door ruffle in the breeze. It all felt oddly more real now that he was seeing the place that was once his home, like the past couple of weeks had been something from the pages of one of the novels he liked to read, so detailed it was like he'd been sucked through the paper into the fictitious world. Seeing something from his time, something so personal to him, was the final driving nail in the coffin and he knew exactly where he was and what he had left behind.

For the first time since he'd arrived in the future he felt a pang of longing for his parents. Disappointed and pressuring though they were, he missed them, and now that it no longer felt like he was on some sort of trip, he wished he were back home with them.

The thrill of the adventure he was experiencing was starting to wear off, and Blaine wanted to go home.

He turned sharply away from the house. "Let's go," he mumbled.

Kurt scurried after him as he strode along the street, determinedly keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead of him, not trusting himself to look at the houses either side of him. He could sense Kurt's desire to say something, probably to question the abruptness of their departure from the house or the tightness of Blaine's expression, but Blaine wasn't ready to talk, not yet. Kurt apparently sensed this and remained silent, for which Blaine was grateful.

The sun was setting as they made the slow journey back to Kurt's apartment. The salt-sprinkle of stars was beginning to appear in the pink and red streaked sky. Soon they would only just be discernible through the glow of the city which washed out the night sky. Despite being less visible than they were in 1923, they were still the same stars.

Blaine sighed as they stepped onto the subway, busy with people heading into the city for the evening. As the train lurched into motion, he turned to Kurt.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, leaning close to Kurt, consciously aware of the people around them who could be listening. "I'm only just now realising I may not be able to go home or it may be a long time until I do." He braced his legs as the train slowed down to stop at a station. "Seeing the house brought up a longing for home, the first I've really had since arriving here and it was just-" He shook his head. "I don't know what I was expecting when we went there today, but I've just had a big reality check."

Placing a hand on his arm, Kurt gave him a small smile. "It's ok."

They remained quiet for the rest of the journey and it was only when the door of Kurt's apartment was closed behind them that Kurt met Blaine's eyes and said gravely: "You know I'll do everything I can to get you home, don't you?"

Blaine nodded numbly, caught in the intensity of Kurt's gaze. "I know," he whispered.

Kurt surveyed him for a moment. "I don't know how you're handling this so well. If I was in your situation I would have broken down by now. You have a lot of courage, Blaine."

Blaine swallowed around his dry throat. Kurt's eyes were somehow both soft yet intense, like they were seeing right into the very core of Blaine's being, and were doing so fondly. The memory of Kurt's lips skimming his own in the lightest of touches flashed through his mind, and he sucked in a shaky breath, before dredging up all his will power and looking away. He shouldn't get too close to Kurt, not when he didn't belong in this world.

He vehemently ignored the voice in his head that told him he already _was_ too close.

Kurt cleared his throat. "How much do you want to know of the future?" he asked. His voice sounded a little odd. When Blaine looked up with a questioning look, he added, "Do you want to know about yours or your family's future?"

"Oh." Blaine took in the hesitant worry in Kurt's expression, the slight tightness around his mouth. He thought about what he had the power to learn – he could know every monumental event that happens in his life – and he thought about how that would affect him. His life would become predictable, the joy and excitement muted from already knowing what was going to happen and when. And who wanted to know their own death date? Who wanted to have that ticking clock hanging over their head for the rest of their life? As for his family: if he knew how their lives would turn out he would feel guilty not telling them and he didn't want to torment them with the choice of learning their future. He didn't want to become some horrifyingly accurate fortune teller.

He shook his head at Kurt. "No, I don't want to know anything about the lives of myself or anyone I know." Kurt nodded, the relief evident on his face. "It's not like I could change anything by knowing – what's true now is set in stone, isn't it?"

Kurt's forehead crinkled in thought for a second. "Yeah, I guess it would be."

Blaine looked at him thoughtfully. "Would I even remember anything I learnt or will I forget it all when I return?"

Kurt met his gaze, something shifting behind his eyes, and Blaine froze, a sudden realisation hitting him. He may forget about all of this when he returned to his own time; he may forget all about Kurt. The thought was like an iron clamp twisting at his heart.

"If you do remember you may influence the future with your knowledge of it," Kurt joked in a strained voice.

Blaine forced a laugh. "I couldn't cheat like that."

They moved onto lighter conversation topics as they prepared dinner together. Blaine tried to ignore the lingering thoughts from their conversation now planted in the back of his mind, nagging him constantly like a persistent itch under his skin. It had all seemed simple before: he would find out how he travelled here and how he could return home again, but now it was anything but. Now he had the worry he would lose everything from his time in this year when he returned, the fear he would lose one of the best people to enter his life. Now he had the fear returning home would mean losing Kurt and all his memories of him.

* * *

**A/N: **Rachel always has the worst timing... :)

Once again, thank you all for reading and to everyone who has been leaving me reviews :)

And thanks to my beta, BleedingHeartsBeFree

You guys will like the next chapter - that's all I'm saying ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Though the conversation had ended hours ago and despite Blaine saying he didn't want to learn about his future, Kurt couldn't stop thinking about it as he lay in bed that night. Now that the subject had been brought up he kept imagining all the different possibilities for Blaine's future, both the good and the bad. He was relieved Blaine didn't want to know about the rest of his life, if only for his own selfish reasons. He didn't think he could bear it if he knew Blaine had an unhappy life ahead of him, because there was every chance this could be the case. Blaine had been unhappy before he travelled to Kurt's time, disease was more common in the twenties with medicine being less advanced, and another war was on the horizon, one in which Blaine may be required to fight. The very thought was enough to make Kurt feel sick.

Of course, Blaine equally may have a bright, happy future ahead of him, but Kurt's mind kept circling back to the negatives and these thoughts lingered in his head like some slow-acting poison sending despair trickling through his veins. There was no way of knowing for sure unless they actually looked into things which neither he nor Blaine wanted.

Call him selfish or a coward but he would rather not know what happened in Blaine's life when he returned to his own time.

With a groan of frustration, Kurt rolled over and punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and tried to let sleep engulf him. But as comfortable as he was and despite tiredness prickling in his eyes, he couldn't fall asleep. The one thing he'd never been able to do was switch his mind off, it was one of the reasons he could be found awake and sketching out new designs at two in the morning, and now he was stuck with his own thoughts until his mind exhausted itself enough to sleep.

Kurt got up the next morning feeling unrested. He sighed as he noticed the puffy bags under his eyes and dabbed some cream on them in the hopes they would disappear before he had to leave for work. To his surprise he found Blaine struggling with the toaster when he went through to the kitchen. He smiled fondly as Blaine fumbled with the buttons on top of the toaster.

"Here," he said, stepping in and pressing the right button so that the bread began to toast.

Blaine shot him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I wanted to make you breakfast, but I guess I haven't got the hang of this modern technology yet."

Kurt blinked at him. "You're making breakfast?"

Blaine nodded, peering at the toaster for a moment before picking up a knife and chopping the bananas on the board in front of him. "I thought it would be a nice change for you instead of having to grab something quick before you leave." He looked rather pleased with himself as he placed the chopped fruit on a plate.

"Oh, thank you." Kurt stood back to let Blaine finish preparing their meal, trying not to watch the way the muscles in his arms flexed.

He hadn't had someone make him breakfast like this in months, not since the very early days of moving in with Liam, and it was nice. His fingers itched to do something to help out, especially when Blaine fought with some of the appliances, but he could tell how much Blaine wanted to do this by himself so he took a seat at the table and let himself be waited on.

"Breakfast is served." Blaine placed a plate in front of Kurt with a flourish.

He looked so pleased with himself, a small smile on his face and eyes bright as he watched Kurt eat his breakfast from under his lashes; Kurt's heart warmed at the sight.

Blaine had been doing more chores and little things like helping make meals lately as his way of helping to repay Kurt for letting him stay, but this was the first time he'd gotten up early to make breakfast.

"You didn't have to do this," Kurt said, stabbing a strawberry half with his fork.

Blaine swallowed. "I wanted to," he said simply. "And, Kurt, you know I feel bad staying here without paying you or anything. I don't have the money to pay you, so I want to help out; I want to do some of the cooking." He lowered his gaze to his plate again. "Besides, I like cooking for you."

Kurt watched Blaine push the last few pieces of fruit around on his plate, lost for words. Blaine was just so sweet and Kurt was finding it harder and harder to look past his compliments, bashful smiles, and endearing actions. Since Blaine had told him his story Kurt had been determined to keep his mind strictly on the friendship track when he was around him, but he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could keep everything he was feeling bottled up inside him, especially with the memories of their two dates and near-kiss haunting him.

Still at a loss of what to really say, Kurt eventually smiled and just thanked Blaine again, before quickly eating the last few bites of his breakfast and getting to his feet.

"I'd better get going," he said, glancing at the kitchen clock on his way to dump his plate in the sink. "You going to do some more research?"

On the days when Kurt had work Blaine had been continuing to do research on time travel. He had grasped the concepts of the internet and often spent the day in the apartment searching through endless articles and webpages. He'd also visited a local library once or twice, flicking through books on current scientific research and experimentation, and on anything about time travel. With it being a subject mostly considered fictitious, he'd made little progress, but they both kept reminding themselves that Blaine had gotten here somehow and the information had to be out there somewhere; they just had to keep looking.

Every day Kurt returned home from work feeling half-hopeful Blaine had found a new lead and half-worried he was a step closer to returning home. He was always guiltily relieved when Blaine would shake his head and tell him he'd found nothing, torn between wanting his friend to be able to return home to his family and selfishly wishing the man he was becoming increasingly fond of would remain here with him.

Scooping up his brown leather satchel, Kurt watched Blaine gather up his dirty dishes, turning over an idea contemplatively in his mind. "How about we get lunch together today?" he suggested. He mentally ran through his schedule for the day and nodded to himself – he'd have time to go to a nearby café. "There's a nice little café not far from my work; we could meet there at one. Give you a break from all your research."

Blaine had frozen halfway between the table and the sink, his eyes lit up at Kurt's suggestion in a way Kurt tried not to think about too much. A smile tugged at the corners of Blaine's mouth.

"That sounds swell, Kurt. I'd love to," he said enthusiastically.

Smiling brightly, Kurt hitched the strap of his satchel up his shoulder. "Great!" He quickly gave Blaine the café's name and address, hoping there were no delays on the subway to make him late. "I'll see you at one!" he called over his shoulder as he neared the front door.

"Have a nice day, Kurt!" he heard Blaine reply.

A gentle warmth washed through Kurt's body as he left the apartment and headed for the elevator. He hadn't had someone wish him a nice day in years: Rachel was either already up and away or asleep and Liam had always been still asleep when he'd been leaving for the day. He could get used to hearing Blaine say it every morning.

He spent the morning counting down the hours until his lunch break. It was ridiculous and irrational that he should be yearning to see Blaine again after only a few hours apart, but the desire filled him as the morning went by and it was with an excited eagerness that he left for the café just before one o'clock. His heart soared and a smile bloomed on his face when he spotted Blaine leaning against the wall by the café's doors, looking far too handsome in his sweater and bowtie.

"Hey, you," Kurt greeted him when he was within earshot. He stopped a foot or so away from Blaine, struggling with the sudden, strong desire to hug him.

If Blaine noticed the awkwardness beginning to creep into the air, he didn't show it. His eyes crinkled up in Kurt's favourite bright smile of his. "Good afternoon. How was your morning?"

"Busy," Kurt replied as he and Blaine entered the café, the delicious scent of coffee and freshly-baked bread hitting him when Blaine held the door open. "We're right in the middle of finalising all the designs for the spring collection and after the success of the year's collections so far my boss is nit-picking over the tiniest of details." He ran his eyes contemplatively over the menu on the wall behind the counter. "It's a relief to get away from it all for lunch, actually."

Blaine had been watching him as he spoke, but he now turned to examine the menu as well. "It sounds stressful."

Kurt hummed in agreement. "It is, but I'm more than used to it. Once you learn to prioritise, multi-task, and the art of shutting yourself off to the chaos around you while you work on designs it's bearable."

They shuffled further along the counter towards the registers with the rest of the line, still gazing up at the menu.

"Have you decided what you want yet?" Kurt asked as they neared the front of the line.

Blaine nodded. "I think I'm just going to get a sandwich."

Kurt glanced at him briefly. "Do you want coffee as well?"

"No, thank you. I'll just have some water."

Kurt's eyes narrowed at Blaine's swift refusal. "You don't have to have the cheapest thing on the menu, you know."

Blaine turned away from the menu to look back at Kurt with wide eyes. "I'm not-"

"Blaine, the little money you have left is useless here; if I hadn't given you a room and wasn't paying for your meals you'd be starving on the streets," Kurt pointed out gently. Blaine lowered his gaze to the floor. Kurt placed a hand under his chin and tilted his head back up again so their eyes met; Blaine's were full of shame. "But it's ok. I _want_ to help you and it's not causing any harm to me to do so." He removed his hand from Blaine's chin and rested it on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You're my friend and I'm only doing what I'd do for any of my other friends: help them out during tough times. You're actually doing most of the chores and stuff; you've got me out of the rut I was stuck in of doing nothing but working and sleeping, so you don't need to feel guilty all the time."

Blaine bit his lip and nodded, moving forward with the line again as another customer was served and stepped away from the counter.

"And besides," Kurt added, glancing sideways at Blaine, "you made me breakfast this morning, so it's only fair I treat you to lunch." He grinned at Blaine as he stepped forward to place his order. He hoped Blaine now understood Kurt wasn't going out of his way to help him or that he should feel he owes Kurt for everything he was doing for him. He knew this wasn't easy for Blaine to accept, and he knew he would feel the same if he were in Blaine's position, but he just wanted Blaine to stop feeling so guilty and to stop holding back on what he really wanted because he felt bad about using Kurt's charity for it.

Scooping up the tray of his coffee and salad, Kurt scanned the busy café for a free table, gently nudging Blaine's side when he spotted one against the back wall that had just finished being cleaned.

"I'm gonna go grab us that table," he said, nodding his head in its direction. Blaine nodded in acknowledgement and Kurt wove his way through the tables and chairs to the free table, setting his tray down and dropping down into the chair with a contented sigh.

Blaine joined him moments later, carrying his lunch on another tray. "It sure is busy here," he observed as he sat down across from Kurt.

Kurt's eyes wandered around the crowded café, packed with people from the local businesses and friends out for lunch together. "There are lots of tower blocks full of office workers within walking distance of here," he replied. "Plus the food is really good."

Blaine grinned at him as he picked up his sandwich. "You've told me that at least twice now so I guess I'd better see for myself." He bit into his sandwich, holding Kurt's gaze as he chewed and swallowed.

Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly. "And what's the verdict?"

"Delicious," Blaine enthused, taking another bite. He swallowed. "You were right."

"Of course I was," Kurt said sassily with a teasing smile.

Blaine's eyes remained on him as he turned his attention to his salad and he felt the other man's gaze frequently return to him almost as if he found it impossible to not look at Kurt. And Kurt couldn't help but peek up at Blaine through his lashes or lift his gaze to meet Blaine's warm eyes, to return his soft smile with one of his own.

The conversation between them didn't falter once throughout the whole meal. For the first time since Blaine had moved in with Kurt they talked about the things they didn't know about each other, discussing childhood memories, phases they had gone through, and places they had visited. It all felt so much like a date, Kurt found it almost painful to sit across from Blaine and watch him talk enthusiastically about a symphony he'd once seen, waving his hands around more and more the deeper he got into the story; to see the way his hazel eyes lit up to a bright gold and his smile crinkle the skin at the corner of his eyes and not be able to reach over and take his hand or kiss him whenever the mood struck him. It was like a special form of torture to be able to see the light freckles dotted on Blaine's nose and not be able to kiss them when they wrinkled up in his laughter. And whenever Blaine told him another story or laughed at something he said, Kurt felt another dollop of something sweet and warm swirl into his belly, filling him with an adoring fondness for the curly-haired man, the kind that not only flowed through Kurt's veins, but penetrated his bones and soaked into his very being.

It was only when Blaine pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and another large dose of warmth flowed pleasantly into Kurt's belly did he realise what this all meant.

He was falling for Blaine. He had been falling for him slowly and steadily for days, but it was only now that he noticed the rush of air past him and the frantic, exhilarated beat of his heart. It was only now with his landing site in view that he realised he'd gone beyond the initial attraction and crush he'd had during their coffee mornings and few dates. Somewhere between then and now he'd tumbled off the cliff edge and was falling. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once. And though his head was reminding him Blaine would soon be gone from him for good and was advising him to catch himself before his fall ended and he hit the bottom, his heart was telling him to enjoy the fall and hold Blaine Anderson and never let him go.

* * *

With Rachel out for the evening performing in her show on Broadway, Blaine and Kurt were treated to an apartment to themselves for the first evening in several days. Before dinner they discussed the option of taking advantage of Rachel's absence and spending the evening going through all the information on time travel they had collected so far, but after lingering over their meal they both found themselves too full and drowsy to feel like doing anything other than lounging on the couch and watching a movie.

Blaine insisted Kurt choose the movie, pointing out that he knew next to nothing about movies and truly wouldn't know which one to choose, and they settled down on the couch to watch one of Kurt's favourites.

Blaine wasn't sure how long the movie had been playing for when he became aware he and Kurt were subconsciously moving closer together. During the opening scenes they had been sitting at nearly opposite ends of the three-seat couch but now there were only inches between them.

He honestly did not remember moving, and wondered if it was partly due to the slight chill in the air from the window someone had opened earlier and had forgotten to close, causing him to unconsciously seek Kurt's warmth, or if it was due in part to the magnetic pull that seemed to exist between himself and Kurt, drawing them close to each other whenever they were together. Whatever the reason behind it was, he couldn't move away without Kurt noticing; not that he wanted to.

Now that he was aware of how close he was to Kurt he couldn't help but watch the other man out the corner of his eye. He felt an inexplicable stomach-curling need as he watched the way the light from the TV screen accentuated the slight upturned curve of Kurt's nose, the angle of his cheekbones, and the plump bow of his lips; lips that had brushed his own in the fleetest of touches like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. The memory of that moment had been springing up in his mind more regularly recently and Blaine felt a mixture of longing and guilt whenever he relived it. He wanted more, wanted a proper kiss, not just a taste of one, but he had no idea if Kurt felt the same. After all, getting romantically involved with Kurt wasn't at all good idea.

Tearing his eyes away from Kurt's lips, he tried to focus on the movie again, though he'd missed a key scene while he'd been distracted by Kurt and was lost as to what was currently happening. How odd that even with something as extraordinary as a TV playing a movie in front of him, something he'd never seen before coming here and which he should be finding jaw-droppingly amazing, he would much rather look at the man sitting next to him. But then to Blaine Kurt was the most fascinating sight he'd seen in not only this era but his own time as well. He found Kurt constantly interesting and could watch him perform simple, mundane tasks, such as tying his shoe laces, for ages with a fond fascination. And Kurt was beautiful with his smooth, pale skin, sparkling blue eyes, and dimple-inducing smiles, and Blaine never tired of looking at the world's beauty.

Unable to help himself, he glanced over at Kurt again to find him watching him with a soft smile on his face. Their eyes met and something shifted in the air between them, a tangible tension hanging over them. Blaine's heart raced, his breath quickened, and their surroundings – the movie continuing to play in the background, the rumble of traffic drifting in through the open window, the flickering of a lamp in the corner – all fell away into nothingness as his world centred on Kurt. Every one of Blaine's senses became focused on Kurt: he was hyperaware of every tiny movement or sound he made: the slight twitch of his hand in his lap, the small hitch in his breathing when Blaine leaned closer, the dilating of his pupils. He could feel Kurt's breath on his cheek: warm, uneven puffs of air that sent micro-shivers down his spine.

The chill that had once been in the air dissipated and the heat began to near _too much_ – how had Blaine never noticed the warmth radiating from Kurt's body, the heat that seeped into his knee where their legs touched?

Kurt's lips parted and his eyes flickered down to Blaine's mouth. Blaine couldn't think straight; his brain was a buzz of white noise, almost deafening under the loud thrumming of his pulse. It was only when Kurt's lips were inches from his own and his hand was resting on Blaine's thigh that the white noise warped into a thought that was crystal clear.

"I don't want to hurt you," Blaine breathed, surprising himself at not only his ability to talk but to voice his biggest fear as his brain short circuited from Kurt's closeness and his heart screamed at him to kiss the man he craved.

Kurt pulled back enough to stare at him, a flicker of rejection in his eyes.

"I don't want to walk out of your life and leave you broken-hearted and alone. I don't want to be another Liam," Blaine explained.

Kurt was still staring at him and Blaine's heart screamed at him to shut up and forget about all of this.

"Because I don't belong here, Kurt," Blaine continued. "Someday soon I'm going to go back to my own time and we're never going to be able to see each other again."

A rush of despair threatened to rear up inside Blaine, but he pushed it down forcibly; he wouldn't break down in front of Kurt.

"What if I don't care?" Kurt whispered. Blaine stared at him surprise: determination and resolve had hardened his eyes and set his jaw. "What if I no longer want to lock away my true feelings and avoid getting close to another guy for fear of getting hurt again? What if I'm sick of playing it safe and sticking to what I know? What if I want to start following my heart again?"

Blaine was rendered speechless. Kurt wanted to change the way he'd been living – keeping his heart close to his chest – for _him_. And if he'd heard correctly, he wanted to forget all about the obstacles, forget everything that was working against them, and have a romantic relationship. As much as Blaine wished he could let all his fears go, the thought of Liam and of Kurt being hurt again was gnawing at him.

"But I won't be staying here for long," he protested weakly, his voice strained.

Kurt said nothing at first, reaching for Blaine's hand and linking their fingers together instead. Blaine looked down at their joined hands and his stomach gave a funny squeeze at how good and _right_ it looked: Kurt's long, pale fingers slotted between his own smaller, tanned ones.

"Blaine…"

Blaine lifted his head to find Kurt gazing at him. His steely determination was gone, replaced by a warm look of adoration that made Blaine's stomach flutter and his heart jolt.

"I know you can't stay here," Kurt continued, "but the pain when you leave will be heart-breaking whether we remain as friends or become something more, but you're worth the pain and I'd rather spend the time we have together _being together_ than denying what we really feel."

Blaine didn't know what to say. Kurt's eyes were searching his, waiting for a response, but all Blaine could do was whisper Kurt's name on a soft exhale of breath.

"Kurt…"

It was enough. Whether it was the desperate longing in Blaine's eyes or the pure need and wonder in his voice when he'd said Kurt's name, Kurt was satisfied with this response and seemed to understand everything he was thinking about without him having to voice it. Kurt leaned back in and pressed his lips to Blaine's, softly at first, but then with more force when Blaine responded. Blaine inhaled deeply through his nose as Kurt's hand came up to rest on his cheek, cupping his face. Blaine leant into the touch, tilting his head to one side and deepening the kiss.

Whenever Blaine had thought and dreamt about his first kiss he'd imagined it would be short and shy and sweet, he didn't ever think it would be like this: his hands fisted in the front of Kurt's shirt, one of Kurt's hands on his back and the other caressing his face, as they gasped hot breaths into each other's mouths. It wasn't what he'd imagined, but it was somehow everything he had hoped for.

Turning his head to the side and panting slightly, Blaine broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against Kurt's, keeping his eyes closed and soaking in the feeling of being so close to him.

"I never dreamt someone like you existed," Blaine whispered. Kurt's hand, which he had dropped from Blaine's face, stroked the length of Blaine's forearm before he twined their fingers together again. "I didn't think I could have this or that I would ever feel this way about someone."

Kurt tilted his head and caught Blaine's lips in another quick kiss. "I'm so glad you chose to stop me in the street," he murmured.

Blaine smiled as Kurt nuzzled their noses together, the bubble of happiness swelling up so large inside of him he felt like he could float. He felt so overwhelmingly elated and loved that he forgot time was against them and these feelings couldn't last. He forgot there was a ninety-one year time gap waiting to prick and burst their happy bubble.

* * *

**A/N: **I said you would like this chapter and hopefully you all did :) The chapter when they kiss or take the biggest step towards entering a relationship with each other is one I always look forward to sharing with you guys, but which never fails to make me a little nervous about posting. I'm sure you all have high expectations of this moment (I know I always do when I'm reading a story) and I don't want to disappoint anyone.

I hope you are all enjoying this story so far! Thanks for continuing to read and for all of the reviews you guys have left me.

And thank you to my beta, BleedingHeartsBeFree :)


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing really changed between them after that evening they got together. The only difference now was that they were free to act on their impulses and express their feelings towards each other. They could greet each other with a kiss on the cheek in the mornings, hold hands whenever the mood struck them, and cuddle up together on the couch instead of watching each other longingly from a distance. Kurt now stood behind Blaine while he washed the dishes, slipped his arms around his tiny waist and nuzzled at the back of his neck, his cool nose brushing Blaine's curls and nudging at his earlobe. Blaine was able to peck Kurt on the lips as Kurt left for work in the mornings, press a chaste kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth, then another on his lips, before wishing Kurt a good day. It all felt so natural and easy, like second nature. Blaine had listened to some of his friends on the polo team complain about how difficult dating was, how hard it was to know the right things to say and do, especially in the early days of a relationship. Blaine didn't know if it was because he and Kurt had been friends for quite a period before, if it was due to them being more compatible and destined for each other, or if it was simply because they were both men, but he didn't find it hard to be in a relationship with Kurt at all; it was as easy as breathing.

Something that Blaine took great delight in now was calling the lunchtimes he spent with Kurt 'dates'. And they were now a regular occurrence. Each weekday Blaine would take a break from doing his research and head over to Kurt's work for the start of his lunch break. Then, they would either go to a nearby café together or, on nicer days, walk over to the park nearby to eat a picnic lunch that Blaine had prepared. And these were nothing like the dates his friends used to talk about: no formal, awkward dinners at restaurants, no stiffly polite conversations during walks through a park, none of the scrutiny of relatives while joining the dates' family for tea or a meal. These dates were filled with laughter over stories from Kurt's morning at work or something Blaine had stumbled upon in a book or online, Kurt stealing bites of food from Blaine's plate and then kissing away Blaine's feeble protests, and Blaine resting his head on Kurt's shoulder as they watched the world go by. Blaine felt like he was on cloud nine, and his continuing research into time travel turned into feeling like something he was doing out of pure interest only, fuelled by his curiosity of how he got here and not his desire to return home.

They decided to tell Rachel they were together as soon as it was possible to do so. After not checking with her if it was ok for Blaine to move in and keeping the truth about Blaine from her, they both felt she deserved to know right away. But with Rachel leading such a busy life filled with her performances, parties, and other social events, she was hardly home long enough for them to have a proper conversation with her. On the nights she wasn't staying with friends or Finn she returned home late and tired, heading straight for bed within minutes of arriving, and she was always up and gone before Kurt and Blaine were up in the mornings. So it wasn't until the following Sunday when Rachel had the day off that they had the chance to tell her.

She had just arrived back from brunch with Finn, looking relaxed and happy as she dropped her purse on the coffee table and sat down in the armchair, facing Kurt and Blaine on the couch, talking a mile a minute as she told Kurt how his step-brother was doing and how much he was helping one particular kid in one of his classes at the high school where he taught. Blaine sat and listened politely, feeling on-edge and incredibly nervous while he waited for Rachel's story to finish and for them to get a chance to tell her. Rachel was Kurt's best friend and he desperately wanted her to approve of their relationship. He knew she hadn't been too sure of his trustworthiness to start with, but he was hoping her views of him had changed now they had been living together for a while and gotten to know each other better.

When Rachel's description of how wonderful Finn was came to an end, Kurt shot Blaine a loaded look, an eyebrow raised in question, checking that he was ready. Blaine nodded.

"Rachel," Kurt began before she got the chance to start talking about something else.

Rachel's eyes lit up with curiosity and she leant forwards slightly in her seat, a forearm resting on the arm of the chair. Her eyebrows were drawn together into a tiny questioning frown as she picked up on the seriousness of Kurt's tone.

"We have something we want to tell you," Kurt continued. Blaine felt bad for leaving all the talking to him, but whenever he so desperately wanted a particular outcome for something he tended to stiffen up and become tongue-tied as his thoughts jumbled up into a tight ball he couldn't unravel. Right now he was only capable of stammering his way through a nervous ramble that would never get to the point while he blushed and sweated under Rachel's questioning gaze, so he felt it was best Kurt spoke while he sweated and fretted at his side.

Rachel was glancing between them. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Kurt shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he assured her quickly. "Everything is far from wrong." He exchanged another look with Blaine, this time smiling at him fondly. "Blaine and I are together. We wanted you to be the first to know."

Confusion settled over Rachel's face. "Wait, I thought you were already dating? Wasn't that a date you were on the night I met Blaine?"

Blaine glanced fleetingly at Kurt. "Well…"

"It was," Kurt agreed. "We went on a few dates around that time, but we've never exactly been…" He paused, searching for the right word. "…Exclusive," he finished.

"We've just been friends all this time," Blaine added. As Rachel hadn't reacted badly to their news his nerves had abated enough for his mind to unscramble itself from the mess it had become in his worry and he could now form a coherent sentence and help Kurt in explaining their situation. "We didn't want to jump into things too soon after meeting and we both had our reasons for not wanting our relationship to become romantic too soon, in spite of feelings saying otherwise."

Rachel nodded slowly, her eyes knowing as she looked at Kurt, understanding his reasons for not wanting to rush into a relationship and seeming to accept that Blaine had reasons of his own. She shot Blaine a meaningful, warning look that Blaine blinked at in confusion; he was sure Rachel would explain later, but right now he had no idea what she was meaning. His nerves rose again, churning unpleasantly in his stomach.

"I can't say I'm surprised that you're together," Rachel said, sitting back in her chair. "I mean, I thought you already _were_ dating, and it's rather obvious how you two feel about each other."

Blaine blinked in surprise: he had thought he was being subtle and discrete with his feelings. He was a little bit disappointed that he hadn't been able to hide them, but, then again, with the exception of one or two men he'd once found attractive, he'd had no practice with being around men he was interested in romantically. He had rather hoped years of pretending to be someone he was not had made him a relatively decent actor, but apparently he was still incapable of hiding how fond he was of Kurt.

"Is it?" Kurt asked, also sounding mildly disappointed.

Rachel turned to him with raised eyebrows and a disbelieving smile, an expression which clearly said '_really?_'

Kurt grumbled under his breath as Rachel's smile widened, her expression turning smug. Just as Kurt opened his mouth to say something to her, a loud musical sound began playing from beside him, making Blaine jump. Blaine watched with a puzzled curiosity as Kurt turned away from Rachel, muttering indistinguishably as he fumbled for something in his pocket. When he pulled out a slim black rectangle and pressed it to his ear, saying a greeting into it, Blaine realised it was Kurt's phone that had made the noise – he'd never heard it ringing before.

Blaine stared down into his lap while Kurt spoke on the phone, scratching lightly at the stiff fabric of his new jeans and trying hard not to listen in to Kurt's phone call whilst also avoiding catching Rachel's eye – he could feel her gaze on him from time-to-time.

Kurt ended the call after a few minutes, letting out a huff of frustration as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Was that your work?" Rachel asked before Kurt had the chance to speak. "Do they want you to go in?"

"Just to drop off some designs," Kurt replied, getting to his feet. "Some schedules have changed and they need them today otherwise they won't be ready in time for the next collection's release." He looked at Blaine apologetically. "Sorry, I know we had plans, but this won't take long."

They didn't have plans, not really, nothing set in stone anyway, just a few vague suggestions of going to see a show and getting dinner.

"I don't mind," Blaine assured him. "Our plans can wait a few hours."

Kurt took a step backwards towards the hallway. "I'll only be a couple of hours; we'll still have time for a show and dinner."

Once Kurt had disappeared to fetch his designs, Blaine became uncomfortably aware of Rachel's presence. He'd never been alone with her before, except for a few minutes here and there, and Kurt had still been in the apartment then, but now he was faced with a couple of hours of her company. He thought of the look she'd given him earlier and hoped she had plans of her own and wouldn't be here wile Kurt was gone. He wasn't sure he wanted to be alone with her right after she'd learned of his relationship with Kurt.

"Ok, I'm off." Kurt strode back into the room, now wearing a dark coat and with a large folder tucked under his arm and his satchel hanging off one shoulder. He walked over to where Blaine was still sitting on the couch, hesitated, his eyes flicking briefly over to Rachel, before pressing his lips to Blaine's in a soft, chaste kiss. "I'll be back soon." He waved at Rachel and left, the door closing quietly behind him.

The room suddenly seemed ten times larger and a lot quieter with Kurt gone. Blaine abruptly felt awkward, shifting in his seat and crossing his right leg over his left, still avoiding Rachel's eye.

"Well, this worked out nicely; I was hoping to get you alone so I could talk to you," Rachel said brightly, her voice loud in the otherwise silent apartment.

Blaine swallowed nervously, making himself look up at Rachel, not looking forward to whatever was about to come.

Rachel's expression gave away nothing about the tenor of what she was about to say. There was a smile on her face, which Blaine was sure was deceiving; there had been a mildly threatening undercurrent to the look she'd given him earlier.

"There's no need to look so nervous," she said. "I just need to make sure you understand something."

"About Kurt?" Blaine guessed.

"About Kurt," Rachel confirmed. Her smile faded, her expression turning serious as she sat forward in her chair again. She paused, seeming to consider Blaine in silence for a moment, her gaze calculative as she studied him. Blaine fought with the urge to fidget under her stare, feeling as though she were strictly judging each tiny movement and expression he made.

"Kurt's been through a lot," she began soberly, surprising Blaine who had been expecting harsher words of warning than the soft, almost sad ones she was using. "I don't know how much he's told you, but he had a rough time in high school with bullies and then there was the whole thing with his last boyfriend…" She trailed off, her eyes hardening slightly as she continued to watch Blaine closely.

"When Liam left Kurt was a mess; it was heart breaking to witness. To start with he was convinced Liam would return and that they could work out whatever the problem was, then came the horrible period where Kurt blamed himself for him leaving. But the worst time was after that when he sunk into this state of worthlessness and shut a part of himself off from everyone; it was painful to watch."

Rachel's eyes, though still fixed upon Blaine, were unfocused, seeing her memories of a deeply hurt and guarded Kurt who avoided the outings with workmates and refused the party invites Rachel offered him which he would have once attended. Blaine had heard enough of what happened with Liam from Kurt to know what had happened and how Kurt had felt afterwards, but hearing it from Rachel's perspective shone a whole new light on it and supplied him with images of a hurt and betrayed Kurt throwing shields up around himself.

"It was months before he started doing something other than working and sleeping, before I was able to convince him to come out to dinner with myself and a few friends. I worried he might struggle with trusting another man again and tried to set him up with some guys I knew who were nice and genuine and who I trusted not to screw him around, but…" She shook her head, her gaze focusing on Blaine again. "He never showed any interest – until he met you and suddenly he was gushing about a guy again, all giddy and excited in a way I hadn't seen him in years. And then I saw you two together and he was lit up in a way I don't think I've ever seen before. He was no longer guarded, withdrawn, or pained; he was Kurt."

Blaine swallowed again, not sure how to respond to this, but before he could decide how best to react, Rachel held up her hands.

"Don't get me wrong," she added. "I'm so happy and relieved he's out of the horrible state he was in, but it's because of you, and I don't know you and after everything I just can't really trust that you won't hurt Kurt."

Biting his lip, Blaine nodded. He honestly had no idea what to say. Assurances that he wouldn't hurt Kurt sounded weak in his own head; nothing he could say now would convince Rachel he could never be like Liam.

Rachel ran a hand through her hair in what appeared to be something close to frustration. "I just need to say this: you better not be messing Kurt around. This better not be a fling to you or a free place to stay while you're in New York and then as soon as you're back in Connecticut you ditch him." There was the slightest apologetic hint to her tone, but otherwise she spoke firmly and with a warning note to her voice. "As his best friend, that's something I needed to say."

Blaine shook his head in violent denial. "I'm not messing him around," he blurted. "I really care about Kurt; you don't know how much he means to me, how long I've been searching for someone like him." His eyes searched Rachel's, frantically pleading her to believe him. He couldn't stand knowing Kurt's best friend didn't trust him. He didn't want someone s close to Kurt to be watching him with narrowed eyes, constantly waiting for him to slip up and prove himself to not be the man he was claiming to be.

"I'm dreading my return to Connecticut," Blaine continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I hate that it soon won't be possible for me to see Kurt every day."

'Or at all,' he added in his head, a wave of despair threatening to overwhelm him at the thought.

Rachel sat up a little straighter, her face lit up with interest. "Speaking of which: when exactly are you going back to Connecticut? I don't think I've ever heard you say how long you're in New York for."

"Uh-" Blaine was lost to panic of not having a clue how to answer her for only a second or two until his brain luckily provided him with a suitable answer.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be here," he told her smoothly, once again only twisting the truth instead of inventing a whole new story. "Learning my friend has moved out of state threw my plans off and as I have Kurt in my life now I want to stay here as long as possible, so…" He shrugged.

When he would leave was by far the trickiest question she could have asked him. He couldn't even guess at a date he may leave on, and with his arrival here being so unpredictable he guessed leaving would be as well. He could be here for another hour or for another ten years – he had no idea, and with no leads on learning about his time travel, he didn't expect to be able to guess at a leaving date any time soon. And this all posed a rather large problem: Rachel would be expecting a leaving date at some point and if he was still here in a few months with no signs of leaving she would get suspicious, likewise if he suddenly disappeared out of the blue.

And that was another thing: what would Kurt tell Rachel when he _did_ leave and he was never able to contact him again?

Reminding himself to talk to Kurt about that later, Blaine turned his attention back to Rachel as she spoke.

"I thought you were at college? Don't you have to be back for that?" She frowned as a thought struck her. "Should you even be away from classes now?"

Once again, Blaine thought quickly. "I took this year off to do some travelling." Hoping to avoid more questions, he added, "I was starting here in New York, but my friend moving and meeting Kurt has thrown a wrench in my plans. I have to return to work in my father's company at some point, but I'm not sure when that will be yet."

Rachel nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer and Blaine breathed a silent sigh of relief. She eyed him thoughtfully.

"I didn't trust you when I first met you, mainly because I didn't know you and worried you would hurt Kurt, but you're proving me wrong and I'll apologise to you every day if you continue to make Kurt as happy as he has been lately. I haven't seen him this happy in years, not since our early days in New York before Liam started behaving all stiff and indifferent. Kurt didn't notice these changes. He jumped into the relationship so quickly and when he gives a piece of his heart to someone it's hard for him to let go," she explained sorrowfully. Guilt crossed her features, drawing her eyebrows down into a frown. "I wish I'd told him of how Liam was changing instead of placating myself with him being happy and forgetting it all when I got caught up with NYADA. I'd seen how it would end back in the early days of their relationship, could see the risk of Kurt getting hurt, but I shrugged it off and it's something I deeply regret." Blaine was startled to see Rachel blinking back tears. He knew she cared deeply for Kurt, but he didn't realise she blamed herself so much for what happened with Liam, or that she was still so affected by it after all this time.

Rachel inhaled deeply through her nose, pulling herself together. "I have to say, though, Blaine: If I see anything like that with you, if I sense Kurt may bet hurt again, I will not hesitate to warn him about it and get him out of the relationship before his life is shattered again. Doesn't matter if Kurt's blissfully unaware, I won't make the same mistake again."

Blaine felt appropriately threatened, and it must have shown on his face for Rachel's expression softened.

"I don't mean to sound so distrustful of you," she apologised, "but I don't want to see Kurt heartbroken and wrecked like that. I can't let him go through that again."

Blaine nodded, guilt creeping into his veins as he thought of how he would be leaving Kurt forever sometime soon and how he was going to do so knowing he hurt Kurt. But Kurt had said he didn't care, he wanted this relationship anyway.

He swallowed thickly. "I promise I'll do my very best to never do anything to hurt him," he told Rachel, trying to ignore the memory of 1920s New York that was lingering in his mind.

* * *

They made a new lead in researching time travel when Blaine stumbled upon a website discussing a number of stories of old magic in New York. The stories had mostly been dismissed as old wives tales of fairy tales, but one of them spoke of viewing years into the past or future, sounding awfully like time travel. They were too desperate to leave stories like that unturned, despite sounding far too fanciful to contain much truth, and so Blaine looked into it more, searching through countless websites and taking several large books out the local library to look through. Kurt felt that sick, conflicting, hopeful feeling that Blaine would make some progress towards returning home and, conversely, that he was following another dead trail. But the weekend arrived and Blaine had made little progress with his new findings, unable to find enough information to learn anything useful or to scrap researching it.

They had been trying to take weekends off from researching. Blaine was doing so much during the week and Kurt was helping when he got home from work and as a result by Friday night they were both sick of fruitlessly searching through books and scrolling through websites. Weekends were the time they relaxed, went on dates, had a bit of fun, and soaked up modern-day New York.

Cooking breakfast together on the weekends had become a ritual for them at some point. Every Saturday Kurt would shuffle through to the kitchen to find a tousle-haired Blaine pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards. They would then flow into the seamless routine of making breakfast, moving around each other easily in the small kitchen while sometimes being watched by an amused Rachel. Kurt knew Blaine loved banana on his granola but strawberries on his pancakes, while Blaine always made Kurt's coffee just the way he liked it. They had each other's likes and movements in the kitchen down to a T, and it was so domestic it made Kurt's heart swell just thinking about it.

That Saturday, breakfast was made as usual and they had just sat down to it when Blaine looked across the table at Kurt with a small, hopeful smile, his eyes lit up to the light golden colour of soft caramel.

"I want to cook for you tonight," he said.

Brow lowering into a small frown, Kurt gave Blaine a puzzled smile. "Ok – but you nearly always help with dinner."

"No – No, I meant I want to cook a meal for you for a date," Blaine corrected.

"Oh!" Confusion lifting, Kurt tried to control the huge smile threatening to split his face. Nobody had ever done anything like that for him before; Liam hadn't really been a cook so all their dinner dates had been at restaurants. Having someone take the time to cook a meal for him was both new and thrilling. "That's really sweet of you. Tonight?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes, I thought we could have it tonight seeing as Rachel is out. I'll make a three-course meal and get some nice wine to go with it."

"Sounds perfect," Kurt agreed.

"Which means-" Blaine sent Kurt a coy grin, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes "-you need to stay out the way while I cook and get things set up?"

Kurt stared at him. "What?"

Blaine was still grinning. "Well, you can't be around here, otherwise you'll know what I'm doing." When Kurt said nothing, he added, "It's a surprise."

"What am I supposed to do all day?" Kurt asked, feeling a little lost, the rug of his plans for the day having been pulled out from under his feet.

Blaine spread his arms in a wide, encompassing gesture. "Go for a walk, get a coffee, read a book – take the day off for once and relax, you deserve it."

Kurt took in Blaine's hopeful expression, the delight in his eyes at the thought of his plans for their date. Kurt couldn't say no to him.

"Ok, I'll make myself scarce for the day."

Blaine's smile widened.

"But if you need anything, or if you can't work something in the kitchen call me on this number." He jumped to his feet and snatched up the little notebook they kept next to the phone in case anyone called for Rachel while she was out and he needed to take a message. He printed his cell phone number clearly across the middle of the page and tore it out. "That's for my own phone," he explained, handing the page to Blaine. "Call me if you need anything, ok?"

Staring down at the printed numbers, Blaine nodded. "I should be all right, but I'll call you when dinner is ready if you're not back."

Just under an hour later Kurt was dressed and ready to leave. He paused by the front door, hands stilling in the middle of knotting his scarf. He couldn't remember if Blaine knew how to work the microwave. He turned towards the kitchen.

"Blaine…"

Blaine came out the kitchen and smiled in exasperation when he saw Kurt hadn't left yet.

"Get a wiggle on, Kurt. If you want the dinner I planned today then you need to hurry up and leave." When Kurt hesitated, he made a shooing motion with his hands. "I'll be fine, Kurt – really. And if I need any help I have your phone number."

Kurt nodded. "Ok." He took a step back towards the front door. "Ok. I'll see you later, then."

"I'll see you later," Blaine echoed.

Pulling his phone out his pocket, Kurt turned up the volume on it as he left the apartment and headed downstairs in the elevator, just in case he missed it vibrating if Blaine rang. A giddy thrill was beginning to buzz in his veins in anticipation of seeing what Blaine had planned for their evening and he felt light and bouncy on his feet as he crossed the entrance lobby and left his building. Even the dull, cloudy day outside couldn't dampen his mood and the shiver that ran through him from the chilly wind felt only superficial, the cold not reaching the warmth inside him. He hummed softly as he meandered slowly down the street, no real destination in mind, just letting his feet guide him through the city and allowing himself to relax as Blaine had suggested.

His aimless wandering took him past a coffee shop and the delicious aroma of freshly ground coffee beans lured him inside. As he was waiting in line his gaze drifted over to the wide window at the front of the shop and the urge to walk the streets filled him. Usually whenever he walked through the city he had a set destination in mind and a route mapped out in his head, he'd never simply strolled through the streets. The idea seemed peaceful and calming, a way of centring his thoughts so he was able to think properly; he was beginning to understand why Blaine had suggested it.

He got his coffee to go and left the café with an eager stride that slowed to a steady pace when he hit the street. He sipped at his coffee as he wandered through the streets, observing fellow New Yorkers going about their daily business and wondering if any of them felt as happy – as bubbly, gloriously _happy_ – and content as he did. Letting his mind off the tight leash it was normally kept on, allowing himself to think of things other than work and family and Blaine's research, he created a story in his head for the middle-aged couple arguing as they waited to cross a road, admired the artistic abilities of a serious-faced girl sketching a street scene from her spot outside a deli he passed… He let his thoughts flow like water down a rocky hillside, ever shifting direction and following the influences of the surrounding environment, and he felt the small knot of tension created by a stressful week at work loosen and then untie.

Though it hadn't been his original plans for the day, Kurt couldn't deny this had been much needed, and he wondered how Blaine had known.

He didn't start to wonder how Blaine was getting on until the early afternoon when he sat down in a busy café with a light salad for lunch. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked to make sure he hadn't missed any calls, though he knew he would have heard if Blaine had called.

There was nothing.

He stared at the blank screen of his phone musingly, the enjoyable morning not allowing him to worry over how Blaine was doing. Instead, he amused himself while he ate by imagining the possibilities of what Blaine had planned for the evening. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pictured Blaine – forehead scrunched in concentration, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as it sometimes did when he helped cook – meticulously chopping vegetables and stirring saucepans as he prepared the mystery meal. A gush of affection poured warm and sweet into his belly at the thought – Blaine was doing all of this for _him_.

For the rest of the afternoon his drifting thoughts were replaced by ones of Blaine. He remembered what the other man had been like in the early days of their friendship and surprise flickered through him as he realised how much Blaine had changed since those days. Living in the twenty-first century had influenced him greatly; it would be an entirely different man returning to the twenties.

With his mind now focused on Blaine, Kurt checked his phone regularly as he continued to walk around the city. He knew he hadn't missed any calls, but he still wasn't satisfied with this until he had looked at his phone screen and seen no missed call notification. Excitement built up inside him as time ticked by, and the urge to check his phone strengthened until he was pulling it out of his pocket every five minutes or so, but Blaine didn't call until after six in the evening, just when Kurt was starting to worry he may be struggling.

"Blaine?" he said urgently into the phone once he'd whipped it out of his pocket. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is swell," Blaine assured him. Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm just calling to request you come home now because I would like to treat you to dinner tonight."

"You've finished cooking?"

"I've finished cooking."

Spinning on his heel, Kurt turned and strode back down the street he'd just been walking along. He smiled excitedly as he hurried towards the nearest subway. "Do I get any clues about what you've made?"

"I already told you: it's a surprise; you'll see when you get home."

"I'm on my way," Kurt told him hurriedly as he dashed down the stairs to the subway. "I'll be twenty minutes, tops."

"I'll see you in a little while, then."

Kurt said goodbye and hung up, keeping his phone clutched in his hand and throwing himself down the last few steps onto the platform when he saw the train standing there. He just made it: the doors shut and the train pulled out of the station moments after he hurried aboard. Gasping for breath, he leant against the wall by the doors and discretely fixed his dishevelled clothing. For the first time since moving to New York five years ago he mentally thanked whoever had been the driving force behind the installation of the subway system. The journey back home was more than halved and with how impatient he currently was to get home, he had never been more grateful for the technology that enabled that to be possible.

"I'm back!" he sang out as he stepped into the apartment. He rushed eagerly towards the kitchen – and came to an uncertain halt.

He had, inadvertently, been expecting an elaborately laid table, candles and flowers, Blaine in a bowtie greeting him with a soft kiss and a glass of wine, but there was nothing, not even plates on the table.

Blaine bounded through from the kitchen, his eyes bright and his face lit up in anticipation. "Good evening," he greeted, kissing Kurt on the cheek. "Go get changed and we can head up for dinner."

"Up?" Kurt repeated in confusion.

Blaine's smile widened. He placed a hand on Kurt's back and gently pushed him towards the hall leading to the bedrooms. "All will be revealed soon. Go and get changed."

Kurt pondered Blaine's words as he hurriedly changed into a button-down shirt and dark dress pants, but he made no more sense of them. He gave up on trying to figure it out as he tidied his hair, deciding to just let himself be surprised.

"I'm ready," he announced, skidding to a stop in front of Blaine, who was standing waiting for him by the couch. Blaine had also changed and was now wearing a blazer over the button-down and bowtie of Kurt's earlier fantasies. Kurt felt a little breathless at the sight: Blaine was so beautiful he took his breath away.

Blaine smiled at him. "For you," he said, moving his right hand out from behind his back and presenting Kurt with a small bunch of red roses.

"Oh!" Kurt was speechless. Wordlessly, he accepted the sweet-smelling roses and gazed down at their plummy, richly-coloured petals. Adoration for Blaine bloomed inside of him in a warm cloud, the sweet, hopeful smile on the other man's face never failed to be endearing.

Touching a silky petal with his thumb, Kurt found his voice again. "Thank you." He stepped forward and kissed Blaine softly.

"You're welcome," Blaine breathed, his words caressing Kurt's lips before he stepped back.

Kurt began moving backwards towards the kitchen. "I'll quickly put these in water and then we can-" Unsure how to finish the sentence, he waved his hand in an encompassing gesture to mean they could continue their evening. He placed the roses in a vase, gave them one last fond look, and then hurried back to Blaine's side, eager to see the next part of his surprise.

Blaine held out his arm when Kurt reached him. "May I?"

Beaming, Kurt slid his arm into Blaine's and allowed himself to be steered out of the apartment and, to his confusion, into the elevator and up to the top floor. It was only when they were heading towards the stairwell that Kurt realised where Blaine was taking him.

"The roof?" he asked in surprise. Had Blaine actually-

Blaine said nothing, pushing open the door leading out onto the rooftop and leading Kurt outside. Kurt's jaw dropped.

Strings of brightly glowing fairy lights had been hung between tall metal stands so they criss-crossed over a table, looking like little stars that had been caught on a wire. The table itself was set for two with a small candle lamp and a vase holding a single rose as a centrepiece. The white tablecloth rippled in the slight breeze and Kurt, gaping at the scene in awe, took a step forward, his gaze landing on a second, smaller table holding a wine bottle and large covered dish set up close-by the first. Soft classical music was playing from somewhere, sounding above the rumble of traffic, squeaking of brakes, and occasional wail of sirens or blare of horns from the roads below.

"You- You set this up for me?" Kurt said in wonder, his voice coming out higher than normal. He dragged his eyes away from the picturesque scene in front of him to look at Blaine, finding his boyfriend watching him closely.

"You deserve it," Blaine said simply.

Kurt stared at him. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Blaine tugged gently on his arm. "Let's go eat before the food goes cold."

Obediently obeying the pressure on his arm, Kurt walked with Blaine to the table, still completely blown away by what Blaine had done for him. Now they were closer to the table, he could see the napkins were folded in a way reminiscent of a classy restaurant, the cutlery had been polished to a high shine, and the tablecloth had been pressed until it was crease-free.

Blaine let go of his arm when they reached the table and pulled out a chair for Kurt. "Wine?" he offered once Kurt had sat down.

"Yes, please," Kurt replied absently, his gaze still raking the rooftop.

From where he was seated the city's lights looked like another network of multi-coloured stars glittering below those sprinkled across the sky above him, a sky which was rapidly darkening from the pinkish tones of dusk. It was a breath-taking sight, and somehow made him feel as though he and Blaine were in their own little bubble surrounded by the constellations of lights and stars. He didn't think he could have dreamt up a more perfect location for their dinner date.

"Sorry it's not the most ideal weather for this sort of thing," Blaine said, setting Kurt's glass of wine down in front of him and sitting down opposite him. "This would have been better left to summer months, but I really wanted to-"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted his babbling, reaching across the table to take his hand. "Stop apologising for the weather. This is perfect, I love it."

"You do?" Blaine's eyes lit up hopefully.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. "Of course I do. Look at what you've done for me." He waved his free hand to indicate everything from the flickering candle between them to the stars and lights above. "How could I not love it? I feel like the luckiest guy on Earth right now."

Blaine positively beamed at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his nose scrunching up slightly. "Let's hope the food doesn't let tonight down." He stood up and lifted the cover off the large plate on the table next to them, before setting a plate in front of Kurt with a flourish. "For starters: Ricotta cheese and chilli stuffed mushrooms."

"It looks amazing," Kurt said as Blaine sat down with his own plate. "Spicy?"

Blaine shook his head. "Shouldn't be – the chilli should add flavour, not heat." He watched apprehensively as Kurt took a bite.

"I don't think you have to worry about any of the food – this is delicious."

Blaine relaxed in his chair, picking up his own knife and fork and starting to eat.

"Have you got all the food up here?" Kurt asked, reaching for his wine glass.

In the middle of chewing a mouthful of food, Blaine only nodded. He swallowed. "Rachel gave me that thing you have for keeping plates warm. I'm using that for the main course, but the desert is chilled, so that's fine as long as it's covered."

Kurt speared another forkful of mushroom. "Rachel helped you?"

"Just with that. She tried to help with the cooking and recipe choices, but I told her I would prefer to do it myself."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course she did."

Conversation flowed smoothly as they finished their starter and moved onto the main course and Kurt was reminded once again how easy it was to talk to Blaine. Blaine understood him in ways Rachel, his friends from college, and even his dad didn't. It had nothing to do with them both being gay, they just both connected as human beings; they had a similar sense of humour, had a lot of common interests, and viewed the world in a similar way. It was so easy spending time with Blaine – it was like being with another part of himself, another half of his own soul.

Desert was a vanilla cheesecake topped with fresh berries and from the moment the first forkful entered Kurt's mouth he was in heaven.

"Oh, my God," he all but moaned, "you have to make this every day." He let the next mouthful of the creamy desert melt in his mouth. "How did you know cheesecake was my biggest weakness?"

Blaine grinned at him. "I could lie and say it was intuition, but Rachel not-so-subtly let slip how much you loved it."

"I'll have to thank her," Kurt said, popping a strawberry piece into his mouth.

"She threatened me while you were at your work yesterday," Blaine said casually. When Kurt's eyes widened in indignation, he added, "If she ever catches the slightest hint that I'm going to hurt you she's going to come after me."

Kurt just sighed. He had been expecting her to do this, but had been hoping she wouldn't. "I've told her I can take care of myself."

"It got me thinking, though…"

Kurt looked up from his plate at the serious tone to Blaine's voice.

"When I leave and return to my own time, you'll be upset, presumably."

"Blaine…" Setting down his fork, Kurt reached across the table again and placed his hand over Blaine's. "I'll be devastated, but it's ok; I want you to go home to your family and your friends and your life."

Blaine swallowed, twisting his hand beneath Kurt's so he could link their fingers together. "I was wondering what you would tell Rachel after I disappear from your life."

Kurt stared at him. "Oh… I haven't thought about that," he admitted. And he hadn't; any time he'd thought about life after Blaine had left (which he tried to avoid doing), he only ever worried about how he would cope and how he could move on despite knowing he could never hear Blaine's voice again. He'd never given a second's thought to what he'd tell the other people in his life who knew Blaine (which, at the moment, was only Rachel).

"I think," Kurt began slowly, absently rubbing the side of Blaine's thumb with his own, "if it's ok with you, I would want to tell her the truth. I wouldn't want to lie and say we broke up or anything like that. But only if you're happy with that."

Blaine nodded. "You can tell her – I mean, I'll be gone anyway and it's not like I'll be able to come back."

There was a question there; a question Kurt didn't want to ask tonight, not when it was all so perfect and Blaine looked so beautiful in the light of the candle and dozens of fairy lights. Discussing the aftermath of Blaine leaving maybe wasn't the best conversation to be having on a date either, but Kurt didn't want to risk destroying their evening by asking the question now planted in his brain.

"And what will we do if I'm still here in a few months' time and Rachel becomes suspicious?" Blaine asked. "I guess we could tell her everything, but- I don't know… What if she doesn't take it as well as you did? What if she demands I move out, or thinks I'm insane?"

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand in reassurance. "We don't have to tell her. If you're still here in a few months I could set you up somewhere else in the city so Rachel will think you've left, or- You told her you'd taken a year off to travel, didn't you?" he checked, referring to their agreed cover story. At Blaine's nod, he continued, "You could just say you've decided to spend your entire year off here."

"I could," Blaine agreed. "Sounds better than having to move somewhere else and sneak around when we want to be together."

Smiling, Kurt patted Blaine's hand, before letting go and scooping up the last of his cheesecake. "It does. So how much do I have to pay you to make this cheesecake every day? I was being serious about that."

And just like that their conversation switched back to painless, carefree subjects.

A while later, when desert was long finished and the sky had darkened deeper, Kurt gave an involuntary shiver. The night air had cooled since they had sat down to dinner, and there was now a chill to the breeze that blew across the rooftop.

Blaine noticed his shiver. "Want to head inside? I've got one last surprise for you."

Trying not to let his mind jump to conclusions or fantasies, Kurt nodded and got to his feet as Blaine stood up and stepped over to him, offering him his arm again.

Kurt took it. "Shouldn't we tidy this up?" he asked as Blaine led him towards the door leading downstairs. He glanced over his shoulder at the dinner set-up they'd left behind.

"It's being dealt with, don't worry." Blaine flashed a grin at Kurt as they headed down the stairs. "I bribed Rachel with some mini vegan cheesecakes to tidy it up before she went out with Finn."

The apartment was almost dark when they entered it. They'd only left on a single lamp and its soft glow was the only source of illumination other than the glow of city lights through the window. Blaine turned on another couple of lamps as he led Kurt over to the old record player he and Rachel played their vinyls on.

Blaine let go of Kurt's hand and fumbled with the controls on the player. "There's a record store not far from here that specialises in old vinyls. I went there and had a good look through their stock; it took me awhile, but I found this."

Curious, Kurt watched as Blaine balanced the needle on top of the record before taking a step back until he was by Kurt's side again.

A waltz began to play, clearly a song from Blaine's time. The tune was almost familiar to Kurt and he wondered if he'd heard it in a movie or on TV somewhere. The crackle of the record player made the music sound even more romantic and looking at Blaine in his suit, bowtie, and slicked down hair, it was almost like he'd been transported back in time, to a time where he and Blaine could have danced to a song like this at a ball – if it weren't for the fact that they were both men.

Blaine held out his hand to him. "May I have this dance?"

Kurt couldn't hide the delighted smile that spread across his face. "Yes," he said breathily, taking Blaine's hand. "Yes, you may."

Blaine led him over to a free space of floor and slid an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Kurt rested his hand on Blaine's shoulder, sliding it around towards his shoulderblade when Blaine shifted even closer. Their faces were now merely inches apart, and as much as Kurt wanted to close that small gap between them and press his mouth to Blaine's, he resisted, closing his eyes as he began to move with Blaine to the music.

They danced slowly, the sound of their feet upon the floors almost silent. After a moment, Blaine sighed and dropped his head to rest it on Kurt's shoulder, tucking it in the crook of Kurt's neck. He fit so perfectly there, like he was a puzzle piece made of Kurt, and his height made it possible for Kurt to rest his cheek on top of Blaine's gelled curls.

"This is everything I ever wanted," Blaine murmured softly. "Being in a relationship with someone I really care about: it's everything I wished for."

Kurt pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine's head in response. His feelings for Blaine were growing by the day and as they did, he could see the difference between how he felt for Blaine and how he'd once felt for Liam. With Liam it had felt like he'd _had_ to fall in love with him; that because a guy was showing an interest in him and dating him he _had_ to fall in love with him. Doubts had regularly riddled his mind when he'd been dating Liam, mostly plaguing him at night when he was at his most relaxed and unguarded. He'd pushed those back until, several months into the relationship, they muted, before disappearing altogether. With Blaine there was none of this: no doubts, no feeling of needing to follow certain protocols, no forcing himself to feel a certain way. With Blaine everything felt right, and he was falling in love in a way that was most definitely real: slowly, gently, and with an exhilarating pounding of a rejoicing heart.

* * *

**A/N: **Here's a nice adorable chapter for you on Glee premiere night!

The song Kurt and Blaine dance to is 'Three O' Clock in the Morning' by Paul Whiteman. It was recorded in 1922 and as soon as I heard it I knew it was perfect for them. I recommend you take a couple of minutes to listen to it on youtube - watch?v=Dim9xdVIiYw (add to end of standard youtube link).

Thank you all for reading and to everyone who has left me a review! :)

And thanks to my beta, BleedingHeartsBeFree!

Hope you all have a swell week :)


	9. Chapter 9

It was as Blaine lay on his back on the couch, the day after their dinner date, absentmindedly smoothing his thumb over the engraved cover of his pocket watch that Kurt brought up the subject of the stories of magic Blaine had learned about.

"How much did you learn about those old magic stories?" Kurt asked, his voice breaking the lazy, content silence.

Feeling as though he was stirring from a doze, Blaine turned his head to the side to look at Kurt, his thumb stilling against the warmed metal of his pocket watch. Kurt was slumped in his usual armchair, a fashion magazine he had been flicking through dangling from his loose grasp, his eyes on the watch in Blaine's right hand.

Blaine frowned as he tried to remember everything he had read on the internet over the last week. "Um… Not much. Most of the writings on them seemed to be either ridiculing the idea or using it for fictitious purposes."

Kurt hummed in response, his expression contemplative as he stared at Blaine's pocket watch. "Did any of them mention time travel?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. That's why I never found out about them until a few days ago." He shifted slightly on the couch, moving into a position which was more comfortable for looking at Kurt. "We've ruled out science, so magic has to be what had brought me here," he added, for they had given up looking into scientific trials or research on time travel a week ago when they'd found next to nothing on the subject.

"I can't think of what else it could be," Kurt agreed, his tone still distracted and musing, clearly thinking hard about something.

Blaine watched Kurt silently for a moment, then tilted his head to one side, trying to catch Kurt's eye. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Blinking, Kurt met Blaine's gaze, his frown smoothing out as he gave Blaine a small smile. "I was just trying to remember – I'm sure someone told me about magic in the city, but I can't remember who mentioned it to me. I'm sure it was back when I first arrived here… One of my old classmates, maybe?" He kneaded his forehead with his fist, as though he could force the memory to the surface with the pressure. "I could try asking Rachel when she gets home. If I told her about it, she'd remember; she has a good memory for strange things like that." He leaned forward and tossed his magazine onto the coffee table.

Blaine followed its path with his eyes, nibbling unconsciously on his bottom lip as he gazed at the now-familiar mess of sheet music, books, magazines, and sketches that littered the coffee table. The novel he was reading was there, lying on top of a few of Kurt's sketches.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, his lips moving of their own accord, the word leaving him subconsciously, his mind still focussed on that book on the table.

In the periphery of his vision he saw Kurt turn his head to look at him, his expression openly curious. "Yeah?"

"What if I don't want to go back?" The thought that had been hanging around inside his head for weeks left him without hesitation. The longer he spent in this time with Kurt the clearer and more potent that thought had become and he couldn't keep it to himself any longer; he needed to talk about it, needed to discuss it rationally with someone to make sure it was something he truly meant. He needed to be reassured he wasn't an awful person for wishing to leave his family and friends to stay here.

Kurt's head came off his hand where it had been resting and he sat up straighter, staring at him. "What?"

Dragging his eyes away from the book, Blaine faced Kurt. "What if I want to stay here?"

Kurt opened his mouth, closed it again. Blaine had no idea what his boyfriend was thinking beyond surprise at his words and he couldn't help but worry Kurt was about to react in the way he had hoped he wouldn't: by implying he was a selfish, horrible person for wanting to stay and insisting it was for the best that he went home.

A small frown line had appeared between Kurt's eyebrows. "Let me get this straight: you want to stay here in this year instead of returning to your own time?"

Swallowing, Blaine nodded. "Yes."

Kurt stared at him silently for a long moment, his face still impossible to read. Blaine fought with the urge to fidget under his gaze.

"What about your family and friends?" Kurt asked eventually.

"I know I seem selfish by staying, but it-" He licked his lips. "Everything that I want is here, in this time. Back in my time there's no equality, no acceptance for people like me, and little chance I'll get the life I dream of. I have to put on a false pretence every day from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep again. I can't be my true self around my family and if I told them the truth about my sexuality they would disown me in a heartbeat; they couldn't have someone like me staining their pure reputations." He breathed out heavily through his nose, the old tiredness creeping into the edges of his mind from the mere memory of what his life was like in his own time. "I'm tired of not being able to be myself around people or of being allowed to live my life the way I want to, and maybe it is cheating at life and maybe I _am_ being cruel to my family by abandoning them, but I want to stay here."

Silence followed Blaine's confession. It was a silence so complete and still that Blaine could hear the soft hum of the refrigerator from across the apartment and the buzzing of a fly by one of the windows. He wanted Kurt to speak but at the same time he wasn't ready to hear his response. He didn't know what he'd do if Kurt told him he should go home.

Because even if Kurt assured him a thousand times that his wishes had nothing to do with their relationship, Blaine would still think it did, his mind just worked that way. Over-sensitive, his father had called him once.

Kurt was still frowning. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice serious and, thankfully, not sceptical. "I mean, this is a big decision to make; it's not the simple, standard way of starting your life afresh, and I don't know if it's even possible."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, feeling puzzled.

Kurt twisted around in his chair until he was directly facing Blaine. "You being here must be messing up the space-time continuum – or whatever it's called."

"The what?"

"Never mind," Kurt said, waving the comment off with a small flick of his wrist. "The point is, you're not supposed to be here, and this has – _had_ – to have had effects back in your time." Kurt's voice lowered, becoming softer. "To everyone who knew and loved you, you vanished without a trace one day, that will have made a huge impact on their lives. We don't know what damage you're doing by staying here."

Blaine stiffened, his fingers clamping tightly around his pocket watch. "I don't want to look into that, Kurt…"

"I'm not saying you should!" Kurt said quickly. "But – I don't know how this stuff works! What if you just drop dead or disappear one day because of universe time forces or something?" He rubbed at a spot above his left eyebrow. "I'm just worried about you. I wish we understood this better."

Getting to his feet, Blaine hurried over to Kurt's armchair and perched himself on the arm of it, shoving his watch into his pocket as he went. He placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder, rubbing at it soothingly with his thumb as he met Kurt's worried gaze.

"I know it's a risk and I know we're sailing in unknown waters here, but I-" He hesitated for a second, his heart leaping nervously in his chest. "I fully believe you and the life I have here is worth the risk. This isn't a spontaneous decision, I've been thinking about this for days, and I don't want to lose you or the life I have here."

Kurt placed a hand on top of Blaine's where it rested on his shoulder. He gave it a light squeeze. "The last thing I want you to do is leave, but I just-"

"Worry," Blaine finished for him. "I know." Biting his bottom lip, Kurt nodded at him, his blue eyes large as he fretted, his forehead creased into lines of worry. Blaine gazed at him for a moment, wondering if there was a way to help alleviate Kurt's worry – and his own; he'd be lying if he said the prospect of staying in the twenty-first century for good wasn't scaring him.

"How about this: we continue to research time travel and see if we can learn more about these tales of magic and see if there's any information out there that might help us."

Nodding slowly, Kurt smiled up at Blaine. "That sounds good. I'm not trying to talk you out of staying or anything like that; I just want to make sure you've considered all the consequences, and I don't' want you to get hurt."

"I understand." Blaine bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Kurt's lips. "Thank you for being so supportive."

Kurt smoothed his thumb over the knuckles of Blaine's hand. "You're welcome." He shifted in his chair. "Come here," he said, patting his thigh with his free hand.

Blaine hopped down and stepped around the side of the chair, hesitated for a split-second, and then sat down on Kurt's lap, trying to be as light as possible.

Kurt pulled him closer until he was leaning against his chest. "Relax," Kurt told him with a smile. He pressed a kiss to Blaine's temple. "You're tiny and I'm not made of glass."

With a soft sigh, Blaine settled against Kurt's chest, resting his head against his shoulder, and smiling as Kurt's arm wrapped around his waist as Kurt nuzzled at his head.

Absently tracing a line down Kurt's chest with his finger, Blaine said softly, "You know you're a big part of why I want to stay here but there are other reasons, too." He glanced up at Kurt as he felt his boyfriend lift his head off his own. "I can tell you're worrying that I only want to stay because we're in the early days of our relationship – and I'll admit, my decision is clouded by that somewhat – but if I stay here I'm free to be myself; I'm free to follow my passions and study music at college instead of law."

Kurt held his gaze for a long moment, his expression oddly conflicted, and then he nodded. "I know it's more than us," he said. "We'll do the research and discuss it more when we have more information, ok?"

Blaine hesitated, then agreed, returning Kurt's smile and snuggling back into his chest again. He knew Kurt didn't mean it that way, but he couldn't help but feel like he'd been brushed off. He wanted to talk about it more now; wanted to make sure Kurt really understood why he wished to stay and that it wasn't a hastily, spontaneously made decision. He needed to make sure Kurt wasn't blaming himself for this; that his mind wasn't following the route that if they hadn't met and become so close he wouldn't be questioning returning home to his family.

* * *

"Do you remember – way back in our early days of college – someone telling us old stories about New York?" Kurt asked Rachel, leaning against her bedroom wall and watching as she put away some laundry. "Like ones about magic and stuff."

"Um… I think I remember that, yeah," Rachel replied without looking round from where she was hanging up a dress in her closet. "It was some girl who was in one of your classes; we had coffee with her and a few others one time. I think her name was Kayleigh. She was a bit strange."

A memory began playing in Kurt's mind, flickering into view like a television being switched on: a tall, dark-haired girl telling tales that had been told in her family for generations, ignoring the disbelieving looks she was receiving as she talked about magic and spirits as though they were real. Kayleigh, Kurt remembered; her name _was_ Kayleigh.

"Why?" Rachel wanted to know. She shot Kurt a curious look as she scooped up a couple of folded sweaters and went to place them in her dresser.

Kurt already had a cover story ready.

"My boss wants me to think about designs inspired by New York's past and rather than go for the obvious I thought I'd look into the more mystical, lesser-known parts and I remembered those stories."

Rachel didn't look even the slightest bit suspicious. "Kurt, you do know those stories were just that: stories."

Kurt shrugged. "I did a little research online and I'm going to look into it further; there's no harm in it, and it would be an interesting, unique source of inspiration."

"Only if those stories were true," Rachel rebutted, "which they are not." She placed the last article of clothing in her dresser and shut the drawer before turning to look at Kurt with a slightly superior expression, as though she thought Kurt was being stupid and ridiculous for even thinking about learning more about the stories.

"I'm going to try and talk to Kayleigh," Kurt told her.

Rachel shrugged. "Do whatever you want, but I think you're wasting your time."

She strode out of her room and into the living room, Kurt followed her absently.

"Did I add her on Facebook?" he wondered aloud.

Dropping down onto the couch, he reached for his laptop where Blaine had abandoned it, tugging it towards him and minimising the webpage Blaine had been looking at, loading up Facebook in a new window.

"Kayleigh Breen," he said after a minute or two of searching through his friend list on the site. He squinted at the profile picture. "That sounds about right, doesn't it?"

Rachel hummed in response, clearly uninterested and not listening, but Kurt hadn't needed a reply, he was positive this was the Kayleigh who had told him those stories several years ago.

He clicked through to her profile and scanned the page, noting her interests and the pages she had commented on: witchcraft, psychic readers, and supernatural stores; this was definitely the person he was looking for.

Blaine joined him on the couch as he sent Kayleigh a quick message detailing the same story he'd told Rachel and explaining how he remembered her stories and asking if it was possible for her to tell him more about them. Blaine frowned curiously at the message as Kurt sent it.

"This is the girl I was telling you about," Kurt explained, waving a hand at Kayleigh's Facebook page displayed on the laptop's screen. "The one who told me about magic in New York and will hopefully be able to help inspire some designs." He was acutely aware of Rachel's presence in the room and spoke carefully, not wanting a slip up maybe leading to Blaine's secret being revealed.

"Oh." Blaine's curiosity faded, being replaced by a renewed interest. "I'm glad to hear you were able to find her."

Kurt nodded, wishing he was able to discuss it properly with Blaine. He wanted to plan what sort of questions to ask Kayleigh and decide how they could find out the more specific details of time travel without making her suspicious. He glanced over at where Rachel was playing with her phone, wishing she would leave.

"What were you looking at on here?" Kurt asked Blaine, giving up on mentally yelling at Rachel to leave the apartment for a few hours and turning his attention back to the computer screen. He clicked out of Facebook and opened the page Blaine had been viewing.

"Nothing interesting," Blaine replied as Kurt looked over the old newspaper article on strange occurrences in the city that some people were putting down to magic. "I wasn't looking at anything in particular."

Like most other writings on similar subjects, when discussing the group of people believing magic was the cause of strange objects appearing in homes and reports of odd presences in buildings, the article carried a mocking tone.

Passing the laptop back to Blaine, Kurt watched as his boyfriend clicked off the newspaper article and continued looking through what appeared to be an archive of old newspapers, clicking on any that seemed relevant. After fruitlessly reading a few articles along with Blaine, a Facebook notification appeared – Kayleigh had replied to his message.

He pointed this out to Blaine.

"Let's hope she hasn't said no," Kurt said anxiously as Blaine opened the message up. They both scanned it with frantic eyes.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, falling against the back of the couch. Kayleigh had agreed to talk to them and invited them over tomorrow evening.

"That's good of her to agree to meet us," Blaine said, turning his head to look at Kurt. "Especially seeing as you said you haven't spoken to her for a while."

"Years," Rachel supplied from her spot in Kurt's usual armchair.

Kurt was surprised: he hadn't realised she was actually paying attention to them; she appeared to be absorbed in her phone. He shot her a withering look.

"It has not been years; more like thirteen or fourteen months." He looked back at Kayleigh's message. "It doesn't matter, we didn't have much in common and she's not the type of person to be bothered by details like that."

"Like not talking to someone for over a year and then calling on them for a favour?" Rachel wondered, lowering her phone to raise her eyebrows at Kurt.

Kurt scowled at her. "What is your problem?"

Rachel sighed dramatically and got to her feet, snatching up her purse and tossing her phone into it. "I don't know." She strode towards the door, her heels clacking on the wooden floors. "I'm going out for coffee – do you guys want me to bring you back anything?"

Kurt and Blaine both shook their heads and she left, sweeping out the door without so much as a 'see you later'.

Blaine stared after her, looking concerned. Noticing this, Kurt waved a hand in a blasé manner. "Oh, don't worry about her; she gets like this sometimes. She just needs some Rachel-time, she'll be fine." He'd seen far too many a Rachel Berry diva moment or stroppy mood swing over the years of their friendship to be bothered by them anymore. He shifted closer to Blaine.

"I'm glad she left, actually, it means we can decide what we're going to ask Kayleigh tomorrow and how."

Forgetting about Rachel, Blaine's expression turned thoughtful.

"Maybe just make it sound like you're particularly interested in time travel?" he suggested, not sounding at all confident.

Kurt sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration when his mind failed to supply him with anything other than the one thing he knew they couldn't do.

"I could say that I think time travel would make a better theme to centre my designs around," he said feebly. He gave his head a small, jerky shake. "Oh, who am I kidding? This whole idea is stupid; we'll never get any useful information out of her this way." He met Blaine's gaze, knowing he wouldn't like what he was about to say. "We have to tell her the truth. If we want her to tell us everything relevant that she knows about magic and time travel, we have to tell her why we want to know. She'll never believe these lame cover stories when we start asking her about the finer details. With the story I've told her she'll be expecting to tell us a basic overview of what she knows, but we need as much detail as we can get and we can't get it this way."

Kurt offered Blaine a small, apologetic smile when he finished talking. He didn't like backing Blaine into a corner like this, essentially forcing him to reveal his secret to someone, and a stranger of all people, but it had to be done. Kurt was still convinced that discovering how Blaine got here and learning how he could return home was information Blaine needed whether or not he was actually intending on going home. It may become dangerous for Blaine here, he might get extremely homesick, or he may one day simply decide he wanted to return and Kurt wanted him to have the knowledge required to return home. He knew Blaine wanted to keep his travelling a secret for fear of what people may do with the truth if they found out, and he understood and respected this, but in this situation he felt they had to tell someone else.

Blaine simply looked at him for a long moment, his expression surprisingly calm and accepting. Slowly, he began to nod his agreement.

"You're right," he said softly, "we have to tell her."

"She's trustworthy," Kurt reassured him. "In college she was known for being someone you could talk to about anything and not have her breathe a word to another soul."

Blaine nodded again. "That's good to know. I-" He looked at Kurt slightly helplessly. "I just don't want this to get out. I don't think it's a good idea if too many people know the truth."

Reaching for his hand, Kurt gave it a comforting squeeze. "I know."

Blaine returned the pressure. "It's for the best," he agreed.

Kurt found it extremely difficult to concentrate on his work the next day. Whenever he tried to make himself focus, worries about meeting Kayleigh would invade his mind, making it near impossible to work. By the afternoon he was feeling guilty about the lack of work he was getting done and mid-way through a discussion on fabric choices with his boss he had to apologise for his lack of concentration. To his relief his boss waved his apology aside, saying they were all allowed to have their off days. Kurt's guilt eased, and though he remained tense and distracted for the rest of the work day, he no longer worried about how his work was being affected.

He returned home to an anxious Blaine perched on the very edge of the couch, staring at the wall as he jiggled his right leg and circled his thumb around the circumference of his pocket watch. He didn't seem to hear Kurt come in or notice him dump his satchel in a chair before sitting down next to him. Kurt placed a hand on top of Blaine's, which was restlessly fidgeting with his watch. He felt Blaine's hand still and his boyfriend turned to look at him. He was wearing one of his bowties with a sweater vest and Kurt couldn't help but notice how young and adorable he looked with his slicked-back hair and large doe eyes, even though they were filled with a frantic worry.

"If you're not comfortable with this we don't have to tell her the truth," Kurt told him softly. "We can make something up – you never know, she might still tell us everything we need."

Blaine shook his head. His jaw had been clenched and it took him a second before he was able to speak. "It's fine; we should tell her."

Kurt eyed him worriedly. He was still bouncing his leg in an anxious, erratic rhythm, but his eyes had hardened with determination; he really did want to do this.

He leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to Blaine's lips. "It's going to be ok; you'll see. And one day you'll be glad you did this. I'm sure Kayleigh is going to give us some answers; I've got a good feeling about this." He gave Blaine another quick kiss before pulling back to look in his eyes. "You ready?" At Blaine's nod he stood up, tugging Blaine gently to his feet. "Let's get going. Kayleigh lives out in Brooklyn and it's going to take us a while to get there during rush hour."

Kurt kept a hold of Blaine's hand during the journey out to Brooklyn, giving it a comforting squeeze every now and then to remind Blaine he wasn't alone and that he would be there to support him throughout all of this. Blaine barely spoke and Kurt didn't try to force conversation, understanding Blaine would prefer to mentally prepare himself for what they were about to do.

By the time they reached the right building and had been buzzed in by Kayleigh, Blaine was pale and sweating. Kurt tried to appear calm and in control for Blaine's sake, but his stomach was squirming uncomfortably and his heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Blaine must be able to hear it. His hand trembled slightly when he lifted it to knock on Kayleigh's door.

Footsteps echoed from behind the door. Blaine's hand twitched in Kurt's. Kurt smoothed his thumb over the side of Blaine's hand.

The door opened.

Kayleigh looked just as Kurt remembered: long dark hair, intelligent brown eyes, and wearing a floor-length dress he was sure she had made herself. She smiled politely at Kurt and Blaine, her gaze taking in Blaine's shy smile and their joined hands.

"Kurt, hi!" she greeted him brightly. "Long time, no see! How have you been?" She stepped aside and waved them into the apartment.

"I'm good," Kurt replied, stepping inside with Blaine following closely behind him. "Busy, though. How about you? I heard you work for a fashion magazine now."

He paused a few feet inside the apartment. "This is my boyfriend, Blaine, by the way – Blaine, this is Kayleigh, an old classmate of mine."

"Pleasure to meet you," Blaine said, holding out his hand for Kayleigh to shake.

Kayleigh took his hand. "And you." She stepped past them and led the way through to the living area, talking about her job as she went. Kurt barely listened; he couldn't focus on pleasantries whilst worrying what was to come.

Kayleigh didn't leave them hanging. After getting them all drinks and discussing Kurt's work briefly with him, she brought up the subject of the message Kurt sent her.

"So, you wanted to know more about those stories I told you years ago?"

Exchanging a brief look with Blaine, Kurt nodded. "Yes, um- A similar subject was brought up recently which reminded me of those stories and I would really like to know more."

Kayleigh tucked her hair behind her ears. "What do you want to know more about?"

Kurt glanced over at Blaine again, silently asking him if he was still ok with revealing his secret and if he was ready to do so. Blaine inhaled deeply and nodded.

"Here's the thing, Kayleigh," Kurt began, turning back to face her. "This isn't about some fashion research for my boss, it's something bigger than that, but before we talk about it you must swear you won't tell anyone else; anything we discuss stays between the three of us, ok?"

Curiosity and confusion settled into Kayleigh's expression, drawing her eyebrows together into a frown and making her sit forward in her seat as her gaze flickered between Kurt and Blaine. "Ok," she agreed hesitantly. "I promise I won't tell anyone – but what's this all about?" A hint of worry crept into her eyes as she took in Kurt's serious expression and Blaine's nervous jiggling of his leg. "Is everything alright?"

Kurt licked his lips, moistening his dry mouth. "Almost two months ago Blaine somehow travelled through time from the twenties, jumping ninety-one years into the future. He doesn't have any idea how or why; we were hoping you could help us with that."

Kayleigh stared at him. Wide-eyed, mouth hanging open slightly, she appeared to have frozen with shock. Kurt gave her a moment to let the news sink in, squeezing Blaine's hand supportively when he felt it tremble in his own. Her shock and speechlessness was a good sign; it meant she was thinking about it and not being outright scornful and disbelieving. Or, at least, that's what he hoped.

The silence stretched on and Kurt's calm and collected armour began to slip as his worry and panic strengthened. The silence seemed deafening and time appeared to drag on and on, each second stretched out for what felt like hours. He could feel Blaine tensing up the longer the silence lingered, could sense his fear building, but just as he was about to say something to break the awful silence, Kayleigh spoke.

"You- You time travelled?" she said, turning her gaze on Blaine. She spoke slowly as though the words were foreign and she was struggling to pronounce the syllables. "You're not from this time?"

Blaine shook his head in a quick, jerky movement. "No, I'm from the year 1923," he all but whispered. His grip on Kurt's hand tightened.

Kayleigh glanced briefly at Kurt, then back at Blaine, as if checking to make sure they weren't fooling with her and playing some kind of practical joke. Finding no suppressed smirk or teasing sparkle in either of their eyes, her expression shifted, becoming less guarded and more sympathetic.

"And you want to go back," she stated softly, knowledgably.

Blaine hesitated, and then nodded. "Yeah, I do. I don't belong here and I've left all my family and friends behind."

As Kayleigh nodded in understanding, both Kurt and Blaine deflated in relief. Blaine's grip on Kurt's hand, which had become vice-like, relaxed, and Kurt swore he could feel the blood returning to his fingertips.

Slowly, and while looking thoughtful, Kayleigh sat back. Kurt watched her expression closely, hope swiftly replacing the fear she would react badly to Blaine's story. He couldn't have explained how much he was relying on her being able to help them. Even though Blaine wanted to stay here and seemed determined to do so, Kurt desperately wanted to make sure he would be able to return if he ever needed or wanted to.

"Do you remember," Kayleigh began, her tone as slow and thoughtful as her movements had been, "when I told you of how my ancestors used to practice magic in the city there were certain spots they used to go to do so?"

Kurt didn't, not really; all his memories of Kayleigh telling her stories of magic consisted of vague recollections of tales of strange happening with an underlying tone of amusement. He hadn't believed in things like magic and time travel back then, but Liam's betrayal had left him questioning the world and meeting Blaine had changed his perspective on many things. He was a different person now to who he was back then.

"Um- sort of," Kurt replied. He knew Kayleigh could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful; he also knew she didn't mind. He felt bad for all the times he had laughed about her beliefs behind her back.

"Well, because of this magic has become more concentrated in certain parts of the city," Kayleigh explained. "It has accumulated in these places over the years and since certain forms of magic strengthen during particular phases of the moon's cycle and such, it occasionally reaches a strength where it can no longer be contained and overflows, causing so called 'unexplainable' events."

Blaine shifted forward on the couch. When Kurt looked round at him he saw his boyfriend's face lit up with dawning understanding.

"Are you saying this is what caused me to travel?" Blaine asked. "An overflow of magic?"

Kayleigh scratched at her arm, frowning contemplatively at Blaine. "Possibly; I'd have to look into things to be sure."

"Would you be able to tell by seeing where I travelled?" Blaine wondered.

"I should be able to, yeah," Kayleigh replied, nodding. "Magic always leaves traces and if you travelled here by magic there will be some evidence."

Kurt shifted forward until he was perched on the very edge of the couch. "Do you have time to go look now?" he asked eagerly. He didn't want to wait around any longer; he was tired of wondering and hoping.

Kayleigh looked over at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Yeah, I have time. Where is it?"

"Manhattan," Kurt replied, already getting to his feet, tugging Blaine up alongside him by his hand. "Bleecker Street in the West Village."

There was a sudden scramble then as Kayleigh gathered up her keys and pulled on a coat while Kurt bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet by the door. Blaine looked rather taken aback and stood in silence, his hand still loosely linked with Kurt's. Kurt guessed he was surprised by how suddenly he could be about to learn the answers to the questions they had been pondering for months.

Out Kayleigh's building, along the street, onto the subway – they couldn't go fast enough in Kurt's mind. He had never really thought of himself as an impatient person – he could spend _hours_ painstakingly working on the design of buttons for a waistcoat – but now he was desperate to know the elusive answers that had evaded him and Blaine for weeks.

By the time they reached the coffee shop darkness had fallen and the street was lit up by the lamps staggered along the road and the light pouring from the surrounding business and passing traffic. Kayleigh had explained the notion of the concentrated magic a little more on the ride on the subway, but Blaine had remained quiet, staring silently at Kayleigh as she spoke. And Blaine was still silent now, frowning as the three of them approached the exact spot by the café where he had travelled.

Kayleigh began scrutinising the area. "It was here, wasn't it?" She squinted down at the sidewalk, trying to see in the dim light of the shadow near the wall. She wasn't expecting an answer, too busy searching for clues rather than listening for a reply, so neither Kurt or Blaine responded, instead watching as she went over the area with a fine toothcomb.

"Here," she murmured eventually.

Kurt gave a little start and moved closer for a better look, Blaine following close behind. Kayleigh was examining what appeared to be a nondescript brick in the wall, but when Kurt got closer he noticed the crack she was tracing with her fingertip.

Sensing their approach, Kayleigh glanced over her shoulder at them.

"This is definitely a site of magic," she said, returning her attention to the cracked brick. She tapped the crack with her finger. "This crack here is evidence – you can tell by the shape. This is where the magic has been escaping from the concrete trapping it." She traced the length of the crack once more before letting her hand fall.

Kurt stared at the brick with a sort of stunned disbelief. Though he had hoped magic would be the answer, he hadn't honestly expected it to be. Now he had to accept the fact that magic was real; it was real and had caused Blaine to travel through time. The idea had been slowly dawning on him since the night Blaine had told him his secret – he didn't believe it was scientifically possible to travel through time and so magic was really the only other possible cause. And now it turned out that was the case. It was a lot to take in.

Blaine also seemed to be struggling with the bombshell they had just been hit with.

"It really was magic that brought me here?" he asked in a stunned voice.

Kayleigh turned away from the wall to face them. She nodded. "It looks that way. I'll have to test the strength of the magic in the area, but it looks highly likely." She looked between their shell-shocked faces, her eyes understanding. "As for whether you can return home, I'm not so sure. You need a very highly concentrated pulse of magic to time travel, and that may have only accumulated in the concrete due to being trapped for some time and then burst free just as you happened to be nearby. I don't know if it will be possible to harness enough magic to enable you to get home."

A sudden thought struck Kurt, snapping him out of his silent surprise.

"Even if you can get the magic for Blaine to go home, how can you control where he's being sent to? How can you make sure he's going back to his own time and not some other year?"

"It's simple physics," Kayleigh replied, shrugging. "Blaine being here is an imbalance, the universe will want to right itself, so when it has the energy to do so it will send him back to where he was."

Blaine frowned. "Will it be like no time has passed? Like this-" he waved his hand to indicate everything around him from the bright lights of modern-day New York to Kurt standing by his side "-never happened?"

Fear tightened every muscle in Kurt's body. _No._

Worrying on her bottom lip with her teeth, Kayleigh's expression abruptly became strained. "I- I don't know. No one really knows anything about time travel; none of my ancestors or anyone who practiced magic here was ever able to achieve it."

Breathing shallow and heart pounding in erratic terror, Kurt turned to look at Blaine to find his boyfriend already staring at him, the same fear he was experiencing reflected in his eyes.

* * *

"You know, if you want to go home you can," Kurt said, speaking suddenly after a period of content silence while they ate dinner.

Blaine looked up from his mostly full plate. He had been toying with his food since they'd sat down to eat, a nagging thought at the back of his mind curbing his appetite. He watched Kurt chew a mouthful of food, feeling uneasy – he didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Your family, friends, and everything you know is back there," Kurt continued. "I can't expect you to leave all that for me."

Blaine stabbed at a piece of pasta, a horrible, burning feeling of hurt and worthlessness rising up inside him. He heaved out a deep, shaky sigh, trying his best to hold back the flood of emotions.

"I- It feels a bit like you can't wait for me to go home and you don't want me to stay," he admitted in a small voice, voicing the thoughts that had been disturbing him since they visited Kayleigh.

Silence met his response and he stabbed agitatedly at some of his food, before setting down his fork and cautiously peeking up at Kurt.

As soon as he met Kurt's eyes, Kurt spoke.

"Oh, Blaine," he said softly. His face had fallen into a more sober expression, his mouth turned down at the corners. "That's not what I meant at all." When Blaine only ducked his head, saying nothing, Kurt pushed his chair back and came round the table, dropping down into the empty chair next to him. He touched the back of Blaine's right hand lightly, and the fact that he was hesitant about taking his hand made tears prickle at the back of Blaine's eyes. He curled his fingers around Kurt's, keeping his gaze on his knees as he fought to keep control of his emotions.

Kurt rubbed at his hand gratefully, the slow movement of his thumb soothing.

"When I talk of wanting to help you go home I'm thinking of how I would feel in your situation, how much I would be missing my dad, my friends, the familiarity of home…" He shifted in his chair, his free hand coming up to cup Blaine's cheek. At his touch, Blaine lifted his eyes to look at him. "It will _kill_ me if you leave, but I couldn't bear it if you wanted to go home but couldn't. Some day the reality of what staying here means will hit and I would hate for you to feel trapped here; hate it even more of it was only because of me you were staying." He smoothed his thumb over the length of Blaine's cheekbone and Blaine closed his eyes. "This decision has nothing to do with me. Do what makes you happy, but even if you stay I want you to know how to get home in case things change."

Blaine leant into Kurt's hand, imagining this all gone, never being able to see Kurt again, and not feeling free and happy with his life. He imagined having to go back to hiding and constantly feeling defeated, exhausted, and miserable as he lived to try and please his parents. He didn't think he could handle returning to that after experiencing all of this.

"I want to stay," he whispered – even he could hear the pure _need _in his voice. He rubbed his cheek against the palm of Kurt's hand. "I want to stay," he repeated, breathing the words into Kurt's cupped hand.

"Then stay," Kurt whispered.

Opening his eyes, Blaine looked up at his boyfriend, at the torn look in his eyes, the mixed feelings of hope, relief, worry, and guilt. Darting forwards, Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's in a desperate kiss, deepening it when Kurt's lips began to move against his own. After a moment, Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and slid his arm around Blaine's waist, using it to pull him closer. His lips parted against Blaine's, his breath puffing out in short pants against Blaine's mouth.

"Stay," Kurt breathed out one time when he pulled away slightly to breathe.

Blaine slid his hand up Kurt's arm to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck upon hearing this, holding on tightly to his life in the future and the man he was falling in love with.

* * *

**A/N: **Blaine has decided to stay in 2014 with Kurt - yay! Story over? I think not ;)

What is explained in this chapter is the most I am going to go into the technical aspects of how Blaine time travelled. How he travels isn't all that important to the story, so I've just explained it fairly briefly and that's all you'll really hear about the whole thing. I hope it all seems somewhat plausible.

I want to apologise again for how slow this story is being updated. I'm honestly posting these chapters as fast as I can. My final year of university started last week and I'm already really busy with coursework and on top of that I have a part-time job, so time to type up the chapters (I handwrite them first) is pretty hard to come by at the moment.

Thank you all for reading and to everyone leaving me reviews!

And thanks again to my beta, BleedingHeartsBeFree :)


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